Two Of Us
by Pandora Culpa
Summary: After recovering from being gored by a chimera, Roy has to adjust to many changes in his life- especially his relationship with Edward. A sequel to The Prices We Pay.
1. Chapter 1

If there was one thing that Roy was fairly certain Edward would always do, it was surprise him.

"I need tomorrow off," Ed demanded, not with the surly petulance he'd exhibited in the past, but with a stoic face and quiet insistence that made the older man frown in confusion.

"Tomorrow is your physical evaluation," he replied slowly, resting his chin on his hand. "It's been scheduled for two months. If there was an issue, it really should have been brought up before now."

The young man shifted restlessly before his desk, pale brows drawn down into a scowl. "I didn't know there was going to be a problem," he stated. "This kinda came up unexpectedly."

Roy sighed. "I'm sorry, Fullmetal, but my hands are honestly tied on this one. Can't you postpone whatever is happening tomorrow instead?"

Ed made a snarling kind of face, but it wasn't directed at him. A gloved hand crept up to rub the back of his neck, just beneath the heavy blond braid, as though Ed was somewhat embarrassed by what he was thinking. "Wish I could," he grumbled, looking everywhere but at Roy. "It'd make things a hell of a lot easier."

"What is happening tomorrow?" Roy inquired, thinking that perhaps a word or two on the young man's behalf might settle the conflict, and the uneasy light in Ed's eyes. He'd never have thought to offer such a thing in the past, being unwilling to face down Fullmetal's overblown indignation more than necessary, but his relations with the alchemist had changed dramatically ever since Ed had saved his life. And while Ed was still easily the most volatile personality in the office, if not Roy's _life_ in general, mutual respect had brought them into a much closer working relationship, and he no longer deemed it necessary to withhold his desire to assist.

But Ed kept staring at the floor, shuffling his feet and unwilling to meet his eyes. Finally, as if realizing he wasn't going to get away without some kind of response, he muttered sullenly, "I'm being evicted."

* * *

Experiments in the basement. Loud noises at odd hours, strange smells, and cursing that could peel the paint.

Looked at in that light, it was a wonder that Edward hadn't been evicted _before_ now.

"So I need tomorrow off," Ed explained, not at all repentant for the minor explosions and noxious fumes he'd unleashed on the private housing sector, "so I can find a new place to live. And I guess I'll have to find some place to put all my shit in the meantime, which means getting storage somewhere..." His forehead furrowed, golden eyes abstracted and Roy was sure he was pondering cheap hotels and empty warehouses. A genius, a prodigy; a man who had faced things at twelve that men three times his age couldn't cope with; he had plucked Roy from the jaws of death at the cost of a part of his own life, and the idea of Edward being homeless or even _considering_ squatting in an abandoned building was simply beyond the pale.

"Why don't you stay with me until you've found a new place?" The offer was extended before he even realized he'd thought it. Upon further examination, he still couldn't think of a more satisfactory response.

But Ed gave him an odd, defensive look. "This isn't about... all _that_, is it?" he asked warily.

_That_. Fullmetal's charmingly euphemistic description of personal self-sacrifice, and the enormous debt that Roy owed him.

"I'd be lying if I said _that_ didn't figure in, at least a little," Roy told him, watching as Ed's eyes darkened a little. "But regardless, I don't think I could let you go without a place to stay. It's no trouble, you've seen that I have plenty of space, and you're more than welcome to the spare room. Besides," he added with a sly grin, "my basement is already set up as a lab."

Ed huffed in irritation, but the end of the day found them in Roy's car, the backseat and trunk stuffed with books and clothing, and the odd, sentimental knickknacks Ed had picked up in his travels. A receipt clutched in a steel fist held an appointment for the delivery of his furniture the next evening, and a steady rasping monologue was already informing Roy that he'd be paid rent by the third of every month, that Ed would provide meals twice a week as well as paying half the groceries, and that he'd be doing his own damned laundry, what did Ed look like, his personal fucking housemaid?

And so Roy Mustang found himself living with Edward Elric.

* * *

"I need to use the phone- _privately_," Ed told him when they entered the house. There was a slight flush to his cheeks, but his gaze was steady and challenging. Roy set down the suitcase he was carrying, nodding in understanding as he kicked off his shoes.

"Go ahead. I'll put on a pot of coffee."

"That shit's not good for your fucked up liver," Ed admonished, even as he began trotting toward the study. Roy watched him go with an indulgent smile before turning for the kitchen, still a little bemused over the revelation.

Edward was seeing someone.

When the young alchemist mentioned it on the drive over, for one instant Roy had been so taken aback he could barely think. But in the next instant, he was just as surprised that he hadn't foreseen such a thing. With Alphonse restored and no major disasters looming before him, why shouldn't Fullmetal be dating? He was the right age for it. Past due actually; remembering the raging urgency of adolescent hormones, Roy wondered if their suppression had played a role in Edward's hyper-aggressive youth. Chuckling to himself, he pulled out the percolator and began filling it. At least the young man was working it out of his system now, and he wished Fullmetal's girlfriends the best of luck keeping up with him.

After about ten minutes Ed reappeared, the edges of his mouth curled up into a smile that only barely managed to refrain from being giddy. The light was dancing in his gold eyes, and he shot Roy a smirk that he had probably learned from the Colonel himself before letting himself out to finish unloading the car. Shaking his head, Roy tried to remember when he had last felt that kind of innocent thrill over a new interest. Far too long, he decided, filling a pair of mugs with coffee. Work had long ago subsumed the majority of his life, and his recent recovery hadn't left him in much state to resume even his casual dating. Perhaps it was time to follow Ed's lead, however, and pull out the black book again, try to find a lady whose company he could appreciate, and some of that happy excitement he saw in Fullmetal's eyes.

If nothing else, it would keep Edward from giving him hell over staying in on Friday nights.

He heard the door open, bang closed again, and then Fullmetal's heavy tread up the stairs. For having lived in that apartment for nearly two years after restoring Al, the young man had accumulated very little; the furniture aside, almost everything he owned had fit in the car. Despite knowing very well why he would live such a spartan existence, Roy couldn't help but feel as though it displayed a barrenness to Edward's life that couldn't be farther from the truth. Perhaps having a girlfriend would help the him accept that he could have a home now...

A myriad of thumps heralded Edward's approach, and seconds later the young alchemist sauntered into the kitchen with a jaunty grin that melted into a frown at the sight of the two mugs steaming on the table. "I told you, you shouldn't be drinking that shit," he growled, reaching out to snag the closest mug. "You're gonna hurt later."

Roy shrugged, taking up his own mug and cradling it in his palms. "It's worth it. And I've cut down. Only a couple of times a week, or for special occasions." He winked, trying hard to appear sincere. "See, I do listen to you and my doctor."

Ed cocked an eyebrow at him, and Roy smirked back, lifting the mug in salute. "You're so full of shit," Ed stated, then shrugged and took a sip of coffee. "Well, it's your gut. Don't cry to me when it starts cramping."

"I have tablets to help metabolize it," Roy informed him, then said in aggrieved tones, "Besides, I'm going to be taking the damn medicine for the rest of my life, so I might as well make use of it. It would be cruel to ask me to give up my coffee completely."

"Consequences of being a dumbass," Ed told him without a shred of pity, taking another deep swig, the shit. "You're supposed to know better than letting yourself end up on the wrong end of a chimera's tusks."

"That wasn't by design," Roy retorted, waiting until Ed had the mug to his lips again before slyly adding, "I was simply the bigger target."

Bingo- spit-take. Score one for Team Mustang. Coffee dripping from his lips, Ed glared at him over the mug, eyes ablaze and bellowing, "Who the fuck are you calling so small an ant would need a microscope to see him?"

"Well, the chimera saw _me_," Mustang drawled casually, taking another sip of coffee and chuckling at Ed's show of indignation. But the display was short-lived; the young man was used to Roy's playful barbs, and soon he was simply glaring at him with baleful amusement from over the rim of his mug.

"You really are a fucking bastard," he grumbled.

* * *

There was no shortage of bets on the outcome of Roy and Ed's living situation. Despite the undercurrent of respect and friendship that had grown up between the two, teasing and fighting was a part of their dynamic and, everyone was convinced, sure to cause friction between them now that they were sharing a house. Speculation ran from who was going to be the first one to come in bitching about an annoying personal habit of the other (won by Breda, who was aware of Edward's tendency to kick his boots off anywhere, and the Colonel's obsessive tidiness), to what their first argument would be about (Havoc; whose turn to wash dishes), to the consequences of that argument (won by Fuery, who also ended up letting Ed sleep on his couch overnight).

But overall, the transition to housemates went very smoothly. And it wasn't as though Edward was a bad guest. He was just..._particular_, and after spending years raising and taking care of Alphonse, not to mention nearly half a year running Roy's life during his convalescence, it wasn't all that surprising that he was inclined to take charge. Despite the disparity of their ages, and the minor fact that Roy _owned_ the house, the Colonel found himself neatly slotted into the role of 'younger brother', enduring Ed's well-intentioned expectations, demands, and his general, benevolent tyranny of the home.

Perhaps he'd become accustomed to Edward's manner while he was still recovering from his wounds, but Roy found that he didn't really mind all that much. The conversation, the debates, even the brief arguments that flared between them were ample exchange for any inconvenience Ed's presence brought. After honing his mind against that of a genius every day, Roy was nearly bored with his former challenges at work; military committee debates were clumsy, ill-formed arguments that he could subtly turn in his favor with almost embarrassing ease, recalcitrant Generals were placated and mollified, and quite often convinced of his suggestions. Beside a mind as bright and quick as Edward's, everyone else seemed hopelessly dull.

And there was also the small fact that, for the first time in the years since Maes' death, Roy was having _fun_.

* * *

It had been a nice evening. Ed was out, as he often was recently, and Roy had decided to make the most of the quiet. A light dinner, his gramophone playing in the next room, and afterward he'd gone so far as to indulge in a small glass of brandy, drunk down quickly while he cast guilty glances toward the door. Just a small one wouldn't hurt, his body could handle it, and what Ed didn't know wouldn't leave Roy bruised.

Now, slouched comfortably across the length of the sofa with a cup of tea in easy reach, Roy relaxed into the normalcy of what used to be his evening routine. Shaking open the newspaper, he began to read, and his mind was quickly embroiled in gleaning tidbits of useful information from the articles. Separating fact from spin, or finding the kernel of truth through what wasn't said wasn't a simple job, but he found it oddly satisfying and often even amusing. Not to mention, every once in a while what he learned gave him the edge in a game of political maneuvering. Humming absently to himself, he turned a page, and began scanning the local news.

He'd made it as far as the editorials before a key rattled in the lock of the front door, and mismatched footsteps in the hall heralded Ed's approach. The young man stalked into the room with an irritable twist to his lips, cast a disgruntled eye at the Colonel and immediately headed for the sofa. "Move it," he growled, using one heel to hook around the older man's ankles and pull them off the sofa's edge before Roy could recover.

"Hey!" Roy protested, laying the paper aside and pushing himself up. "I was sitting there."

"You don't need the whole thing," Ed told him, settling in like a cat and making himself comfortable. The presumption irked Roy for some ambiguous reason, and he leaned forward to shove the young man's shoulder, trying to shift him from his stolen seat.

"Well, I was here first," he griped, aware as he spoke of how childish he sounded. "Besides, aren't you home early?"

Ed growled, and shoved back, hard enough to cause Roy to flail to keep from being spilled into the floor. "We had an argument," he snapped, scrambling a little to keep his place on the cushion as Roy tried again to push him away. "And what are you, my keeper? What the fuck does it matter, when I get home? Dammit, Mustang, stop pushing!"

Both hands occupied with trying to evict Ed from the sofa, Roy gave him a grim smile. "You started it," he stated, and Ed gave a wordless snarl. For a few moments the two scuffled furiously for territory, finally ending up positioned shoulder to shoulder in the center of the couch, neither one conceding an inch of space to the other. Ed shot a challenging glare up at Roy, then broke into a wicked grin. "Looks like we'll have to share."

"Hmph." How had he ended up being made to look like the immature one here? He made a point of staring down his nose at his smaller housemate, relenting when Ed started to chuckle at his behavior. "I suppose I'll let you stay, this time. But you really ought to learn some diplomacy, Fullmetal."

"That shit's no fun," Ed commented, twisting around so that he could rest all his weight on Roy's shoulder, and slinging his legs to hang over the sofa's arm. Roy tried to elbow him in the ribs, but Ed twisted, avoiding the blow. "Hey, bastard, be nice!"

"I'm not your cushion," Roy mock-growled, eyeing his newspaper and wondering how he could grab it again without losing his hard-earned space. Ed just huffed, leaning back farther, and Roy contemplated moving suddenly just to watch the younger man sprawl at the loss of his support. But deciding that would probably only result in losing the little space he'd managed to hang onto, he settled back as well, using Ed as a his own backrest.

They sat propped against one another in silence for a few minutes, until curiosity and boredom prompted Roy to ask, "What did you argue about?"

Ed snorted. "That's private, isn't it?"

The Colonel held his hands up, despite that Edward couldn't see the gesture. "Not trying to pry," he said, "but you brought it up. Just thought you might want to talk about it."

"Nothing to talk about." Ed grumbled, the hard metal of his automail port pressing uncomfortably against Roy's back as the young man squirmed in his seat. "She's being unreasonable."

_Unreasonable by whose standards?_ Roy wanted to ask, but he was well aware what kind of reception that would earn. Instead, he made a quiet, noncommittal sound. "Reason and emotion aren't always compatible," he mused aloud. "And young women especially tend to think more with their hearts than their heads, at least when it comes to their relationships."

"I _thought_ she understood," Ed groused, still shifting on the cushion until Roy's back started to protest the abuse. "I'm busy, military work isn't easy, and it's not like I don't spend as much time with her as I'm able. But sometimes I need some time to myself too. That's not too much to ask, right? I give her all the space she wants, when she asks. What she's asking for isn't equivalent at all!"

Roy shook his head, silently amused. "Ed, you can give up the idea of equivalence right now. Equivalence and relationships don't comfortably coexist. By nature, a relationship tends to be unequal, whether by who sacrifices more, or who loves the most."

"So now you're a relationship counselor." Ed sounded amused, and faintly bitter. "That's some shit advice, Mustang."

"Doesn't make it any less true." Roy grunted, trying to escape the painful prosthetic grinding against his scapula and Ed obligingly moved so he could straighten. "A truly equal partnership is a rare thing."

"Kinda kills the point of being in a relationship, if things are so fucked," Ed growled, settling back against Roy once the older man had gotten comfortable. "What's so appealing about it, if things aren't fair?"

"I didn't say things weren't fair," he corrected. "I said they were unequal. Take Maes and Gracia for example..."

"Perfect couple," Ed said immediately, and Roy chuckled.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

Ed twisted abruptly, nearly bowling Roy over. "Don't tell me-"

Roy shook his head. "It's not about a lack of love or understanding," he explained. "The two of them had a wonderful and successful marriage. But it wasn't equal."

"How do you figure?" Ed demanded. "There wasn't anything to suggest there was any inequality between them."

He tilted his head back, looking upward at the ceiling as he replied. "Maes loved Gracia to distraction. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, nothing he wouldn't sacrifice. She was his world."

"Mrs. Hughes loved him too!" Roy stifled a chuckle at Ed's indignation, instead nodding in agreement.

"Of course she did. But the depth of it wasn't the same. Edward, in every relationship, there is someone who loves more, and someone who must give more. Maes loved Gracia intensely, but she was the one who had to balance that love. And she was the one who had to bend, to accommodate him and his job, to make the marriage work."

Ed cast a disgusted, sidelong gaze over his shoulder. "That doesn't sound right. How could someone accept being loved less than they love? And wouldn't always being the one who had to compromise make a person resentful?"

"Like I said," Roy explained, "you can get rid of any notions of equivalence. This isn't science, Edward. It doesn't have to be a balanced equation. Love makes it work, regardless of the difficulties. If you love, you simply want the other person to be happy, and the rest doesn't matter."

"That's stupid," Ed declared, and Roy could feel the shift of muscles across his back as the younger man crossed his arms. "Whoever _I_ settle down with, it won't work like that."

Roy let the laugh out this time and gave into his impulse to lean for the newspaper, spilling Edward over backwards onto the cushions with a yelp. "We'll see," he said, folding the paper neatly and dodging the uncoordinated punch Ed threw from his sprawl.

"No you _won't_," Ed snarled, pushing himself upright once more, "'cause you won't _be_ there! Fucking bastard..."

* * *

Ed's relationship didn't last long after that.

"I was _working_," Ed stated, waving a sudsy plate for emphasis. "It's not like I can say, oh, hey, General, I can't go on that mission 'cause my _girlfriend_ has a dinner party planned. It's not _my_ fault!"

"It's a special kind of woman who can tolerate living with a career military man," Roy agreed, rescuing the plate before it fell victim to Ed's vehemence. "It takes a lot of patience and understanding."

Ed made a face at him. "Fuck, I'm not _career_. I told her _that_, too, told her that one day I wouldn't have to put up with being sent all over the fucking _world_ to wipe other people's asses for them, and then I could go to any goddamn party she wanted. You think she heard a word of it?" He slammed a fist down on the counter, and Roy sighed for the fate of his kitchen. "No, she wanted me to fuckin' _resign_, so she could show me off to her idiot friends!"

Roy nodded in understanding. "It sounds as though, in the long run, this was for the best then. If she couldn't respect your situation..."

"That's what I'm talking about! Respect! Fuck, I didn't give _her_ shit when she had plans! I didn't fuckin' hound her for details, either! I mean, shit, it's not like I was in _love_ with her or anything, but..."

He threw a plate into the sink, and Roy winced as he heard the distinctive snap of breaking porcelain. Ed had the decency to immediately shut up, looking abashed as he fished the shards from the water.

"Fuck, I didn't mean to do that," he muttered, face red and eyes downcast. "Shouldn't be taking this out on your dishes, it just makes me so _mad_..." Placing the remnants on the counter, Ed clapped his hands and blue light crackled as the broken pieces merged seamlessly together. Shoving the restored plate into Roy's hands, Ed snatched up the drying cloth and wiped his hands before stomping for the back door.

"I'm going for a walk," he growled, still not meeting Roy's eyes. "I'll finish the washing up after I cool off. Sorry."

The door slammed at his back, and Roy stared after the young man with a slight frown. No matter what Ed claimed, it was plain to see that the failure with his girlfriend hurt him. As was to be expected; no one was immune to the sting of defeat when emotion was invested. And Ed had always felt things so keenly; this breakup had to cut him deep. What a shame the foolish girl hadn't realized what she was losing.

Glancing down at the plate in his hands, Roy quirked a grin at the gargoyle faces scowling back up at him from beneath the glaze. "I suppose this is Ed's place setting now," he commented to the empty room, and carefully stacked it in the cupboard before taking his housemate's abandoned place at the sink.

* * *

He was drowsing in front of the fire, sleepily debating whether or not he was ready to face the climb up the stairs to his bed, when the creak of floorboards informed him that Ed was back. He looked up as the young man entered the room, his face still red from exposure to the nighttime chill and his movements subdued. But there was a measure of calm in his eyes now, and it pleased Roy to see it.

"Hey," he greeted, and Ed nodded back.

"Hey," he replied. Then, "You didn't have to wash the dishes. I said I'd do it."

Roy shrugged, his eyelids drooping once more. "You needed to blow off steam. I didn't mind."

Ed's mouth tightened as though he was about to argue, but he let it go, a reluctant smile curling his lips. "Yeah, well. Thanks. I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything," Roy corrected through a yawn, stretching and rising with slow grace. "That's what friends do."

"Yeah," Ed agreed after a moment. The firelight caught in his eyes, filling them with warmth that hadn't been there before, and Roy couldn't help but notice how tired he looked. He laid a comforting hand on the smaller man's shoulder as he moved past him in the doorway.

"Try to get some rest," he encouraged, and Ed nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he said again, his voice quiet and dull. "I'm just gonna warm up first."

Ed settled on the floor in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames, and Roy sighed as he mounted the stairs. The first heartbreaks were always the worst, though they never truly improved. But Ed was resilient; he'd bounce back. And surely there were any number of young women out there who'd be willing to take his mind off this failed affair. Ed wasn't a child; he didn't need Roy to hold his hand through a breakup.

_He'll be fine_, he told himself as he crawled gratefully into his bed. _He's stronger than you, after all._

But he couldn't help the vague resentment that coursed through him as he drifted off, that someone would cause Edward any hurt. Didn't they realize what they had?

* * *

As Roy predicted, it didn't take Ed long to recover from his heartache. About a week after the incident the young man came home late sporting a couple visible bite marks on his neck, and a shit-eating grin, and Roy sent up silent thanks that his companion had obviously gotten over things in the time-honored tradition of men everywhere: by getting laid.

After several more weeks passed, in a household that was increasingly empty as Ed's newest relationship blossomed, Roy came to the conclusion that perhaps he was overdue for a dose of the same medicine. Especially after _Riza_, of all people, commented rather acerbically that he'd be doing the entire office a favor if he'd just lighten up. She'd even gone so far as to point out that the newest addition to the steno pool- a buxom brunette named Diane- had been giving him the eye since she transferred to headquarters, and there was also that newly opened Cretan restaurant that was supposed to be so good...

As he considered the suggestion in the safety of his office (well away from the jeers and laughter of Havoc and Breda over the thought of _Hawkeye_ as his wingman), it came as something of a mild surprise to him that it had been so long since he'd had even the most innocent of dates. Not since before his injury, as a matter of fact, and while he could be forgiven for not indulging himself in the fairer sex while still convalescing, he had to admit that even he could find no reason why he hadn't yet returned to the dating scene. It wasn't as though he were self conscious of his newest scars; many women found such imperfections quite manly. And so long as he left their explanation to being gored by a chimera during the course of a mission, and left off the details of how it was _Ed_ who knit him back together and kept him alive, it came across as rather heroic and dashing.

So Roy put on his most charming smile and, ignoring the sniggers, headed down to the secretarial office where the lovely Diane was _delighted_ by his invitation, and enthusiastically agreed to join him for dinner the following evening. Havoc was still chuckling when he returned, but he simply asked the Lieutenant whether or not _he_ had a date lined up for that weekend, nodding in mock sympathy when the blond's expression fell into dismay. "Such a shame," he sighed, "that you'll be spending your evening alone. I'll think of you while Diane and I are... dining," he concluded with a wink, and Breda burst into howls of laughter as Havoc's face turned bright red.

The natural order restored, he sailed through the rest of his day with a light heart. When he arrived home after work Ed was already there, and halfway through making dinner for them. Over the meal he casually mentioned his date, and the young man gave him a wicked grin.

"About time you got back on the horse," Ed commented. "Didn't want to say anything, but you've really been moping lately."

_What?_ "I don't _mope_," Roy told him, taking a sip of water. "Just because I'm not spending every evening out on the town doesn't mean I'm moping. I'm perfectly content on my own."

"Riiiight. Because it's a natural progression for the biggest womanizer in Central to go cold turkey after a little hospital time." Pointing a fork at him, Ed made a face. "Shit, Mustang, I was surprised you didn't manage to have girls waiting on you hand and foot while you were still on bed rest! You know, playing the sympathy angle, getting spongebaths..."

Roy laid his own fork down, torn between amusement and irritation. A few women, a little sex, and now Ed thought he knew enough to advise _him_? "As usual, you display all the social refinement of a gorilla," he remarked dryly. "For your information, there is- and always has been- more to me and my interests than spending every waking moment outside of work in some woman's company, or in her bed."

"I've known gorillas who were plenty fuckin' refined," Ed replied, without a shred of irony. "And I never said I thought you oughta spend _all_ your time on women. Just that it was weird that you weren't spending _any_."

Conveniently ignoring the fact that he'd been wondering the same thing earlier in the day, Roy rolled his shoulders in an elegant shrug. "I hardly need to prove my manhood in an endless stream of dates. I've got better things to do."

"Mmph," Ed grunted through a mouthful of pasta. Swallowing the bite down, he shook his head. "Better things like reading the newspaper, and folding your socks. That's fucking fascinating."

Roy snorted, and rose to clear away his dishes. Behind him, Ed began to snicker evilly.

"Does this mean that before, when you _were_ on a date nearly every night, that you _did_ have something to prove?" he taunted, and bolted from the room cackling like a fiend when Roy spun back around with a growl.

* * *

He found Ed sprawled on the couch later on, nose stuck in a treatise on the transmutation of noble gases and a pad covering in barely legible notes under his elbow. Concentration creased the alchemist's brow as he read, one hand lifting to tuck an errant strand of gold hair behind his ear in what was surely an unconscious gesture. How someone so young could have such remarkable focus never ceased to amaze Roy, and for a moment he paused in the doorway, watching as Ed flipped another page, those startling gold eyes never ceasing to move. Ed was lost in his own world, and a smirk spread across Roy's face at the opportunity this presented. Taking full advantage of the other man's preoccupation, he had swatted Ed's legs aside and dropped into the newly-vacated space before his victim could do more than yelp in surprised indignation.

"Fucker! What the hell?"

"You don't need the whole sofa," Roy told him archly. "Be nice and share, Fullmetal."

Ed huffed, slamming the book closed. "You're an asshole."

Roy just smiled at him. "And you can clean up your own damn plate next time."

"Fine, whatever. Did you just come in here to bother me?"

"No, I came to pursue my _fascinating_ hobby of reading the newspaper," he replied. "It's what I like to do in the evening. I'm surprised," he added, "after that lecture you just gave me, that you aren't out with Marcia tonight."

"Mary," Ed corrected with the hint of a frown. "And I'm seeing her tomorrow. Wanted to get this reading done tonight, so my bastard commanding officer doesn't give me shit over not having my research ready for the Friday meeting."

"A worthy endeavor." Roy nodded in approval, and chuckled as he caught the kick Ed aimed at his thigh.

After a few more scuffles they settled down, leaning against one another as before, and in short order both of them were absorbed in their reading. Caught up in trying to sort out which anonymous official source was leaking details to the press about the military's budgetary concerns, it took Roy a moment to realize Ed was speaking to him.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" he said, letting the paper droop over his lap. "I'm afraid I was distracted."

Ed mumbled something that Roy assumed was derogatory, then said in a louder voice, "I _said_ I'm sorry it's taking so long for me to find a new place. I'm sure you're sick of having me underfoot by now."

The paper sagged further, as Roy considered. "Actually," he replied slowly, as realization sunk in, "it hasn't been any trouble at all. In fact, it's been rather nice to have someone to talk to."

"Eh. Well... good." For some reason, Ed sounded embarrassed. "Don't wanna be a charity case or anything."

"Charity cases don't eat nearly as much as you," Roy teased, and felt Ed's answering growl rumble against his back.

"See if I take your turn scrubbing the bathroom again," the young man snapped. "And don't forget to take the damn garbage out before you fall asleep. Lazy bastard."

* * *

The next day swept by with surprising fleetness. It passed so quickly that Havoc and Breda forgot to rib Roy over his date, and before he knew it Hawkeye was announcing the end of the day, and releasing the officers to their weekend plans. She gave him a keen eye as she gathered her coat, and said, "Have a nice evening, sir," in such a bland tone that he was sure she was all but ordering him to do so.

Traffic seemed to part before him, and he was home with plenty of time to shower and change for his date. Ed was there as well, bitching about leaving some hot water for him, and how long did Roy need to take in the bathroom anyway, what was he, a _girl_? He bore the complaints with amusement, ribbing Ed in turn for changing his clothing several times before finally settling on the first outfit he'd picked. "Now who's the girl?" he asked slyly, and dodged the hairbrush Ed flung at him in reply.

Then he was out the door, navigating the darkening streets to pick up Diane, and asking himself rather belatedly just why he was doing this in the first place.

* * *

The lights were still on when he arrived home later that night. From the driveway Roy frowned, thinking of his electrical bill, and making a mental note to speak to Ed about leaving without shutting them down. But to his surprise, when he went inside he was met by an unmistakable warmth that spoke of a fire in the grate, and there was the mellow glow of lamps flooding out into the hall. Rounding the corner, he saw Ed curled in his usual spot on the sofa, book in hand, and dressed not in his attire from earlier, but in faded flannel pants and a long, tired-looking shirt that gaped loose around his neck.

"I didn't expect you'd be home," Roy commented as he unwound his scarf and tossed it over a chair.

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," Ed replied, shutting the book and setting it aside. His gold eyes were darkened by an emotion that Roy read as resignation, but they quickly flicked aside, staring at the coat Roy was shedding. "Didn't think you'd be home so early either."

Roy didn't bother trying to hide the exasperation he was feeling. "I should never have allowed myself to be talked into this."

"Didn't go well, huh?" It was odd, seeing sympathy on Ed's face directed at him. He hadn't seen that look since he was so gravely hurt, and it left him feeling strangely off balance.

"Oh, it went well enough," Roy replied, moving over to take a seat next to him, and Ed obligingly shifted to give him room. "Dinner was fine, dancing was fine, she's a great kisser..."

"So what went wrong then?"

He sighed, tilting his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes. "I have no idea. Simple incompatibility? There just didn't seem to be any chemistry at all. It was like we were merely going through the motions, so I thought it best to just end the evening pleasantly before things got any more awkward."

"Huh." He could feel Ed shifting next to him, the leather cushion creaking beneath his weight. "That really sucks."

"Yes. So what about you? And- Mary, wasn't it?"

A grunt. "Yeah, that's her. She said she wasn't feeling well, but... I think it's over."

Roy opened his eyes, turning his gaze on the man hunched next to him, staring broodily into the flames. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "What makes you think that?"

Shoulders lifted and fell in a quick shrug, firelight glinting off the metal that peeked through the loose collar of Ed's shirt. "She's not comfortable with me. Or... the automail, I guess. She won't admit it freaks her out, but she gets all weird if I touch her with it, and she doesn't like to see it uncovered..." His voice trailed off, and Roy felt a surge of irritation.

"What an idiot," he remarked without thinking, and Ed turned a baffled look his way.

"The hell, Mustang...?"

"That's so... " He waved one arm in frustration, "_damned_ superficial. There's a lot more to you than your automail."

Ed was staring at him as though torn between gratitude and argument. "It's not like it's pretty or anything, I don't have any illusions about that. Mary's right, it's a bit freakish, but it's not like she didn't know from the start-"

"Ed," Roy interrupted, his tone of voice steeping in a severity that he generally reserved for the office, but this was _ridiculous_. "That's absurd. Your automail isn't freakish, and that girl is an idiot. Don't judge yourself by her obviously narrow standards. In fact..." he slapped his hands down on his knees, "new house rule. I don't want to hear any self-deprecation. Got it? You're better than that."

The look in Ed's eyes had shifted, a flicker of unease in their depths. But he didn't back down from Roy's own serious gaze. "You really _are_ fucking weird," he finally said, resentful, but his taut posture was relaxing. "You gonna make me promise not to insult you next?"

Roy allowed himself a thin smile. "Hardly," he replied. "You'd never open your mouth again if I did."

"Oh har fucking har, bastard," the young man grumbled, but the sharp edges of a grin were poking through his scowl. "But in case you hadn't noticed, we're _both_ losers sitting around at home on a Friday night."

Conceding the point with a tip of his head, Roy tried to keep his gaze away from the sideboard across the room, but sharp-eyed as ever, Ed caught the quick glance. "No," he said firmly, poking a finger at Roy. "No drinking for you. Gonna fuck up your liver worse, just 'cause you're bored?"

It was a little tempting. Not so much as it had been once, before he'd experienced the burning pain that accompanied the aftermath of a binge, but a bad evening was seldom worse off for a stiff drink to chase it down. Sighing, he fleetingly wished that his injury hadn't stolen that particular vice, but the thought hung in his mind, an echo of remembrance, and he turned to Ed with a tight smirk curling his lips. "Then I suppose we'll have to come up with something else to pass the time," he drawled, and gold eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Like what?" came the wary response.

"I believe you have an array to teach me."

* * *

Ed was not pleased by the request.

More specifically, he cursed with a biting vehemence that Roy hadn't witnessed since Fullmetal was an over-aggressive teenager, and loud enough to rattle the windowpanes. From his seat on the sofa, Ed raged with refusal, balked at every attempt at persuasion, and shouted the Colonel down when he tried to reason with him.

Finally, Roy lost his temper as well. "You agreed to this!" he roared, losing his composure under the weight of anger. "Don't you dare back out of it!"

"What the hell good is it going to do you?" Ed countered. "And I _didn't_ fucking agree to it. You just told me to show you and then assumed I would, like you _always_ think people are just gonna do whatever you want!"

"First of all, I _never_ assume you're going to do what I ask. In fact, it's a safer bet that you'll do the opposite. But you sure as hell _implied_ that you would show me that array. And until now, you've always kept your word." His patience was reduced to rubble, worn down by Ed's intransigence, and Roy couldn't refrain from the jab. "Second, why _shouldn't_ you show it to me? Do you think I'm too stupid to understand it, or that it's something you've got to keep a monopoly on?"

"Fuck you, you know that's not it..."

"Then what?" Roy snapped, aware of how childish he sounded, but unable to restrain himself. Self-control was second nature to him, but somehow Ed always managed to get under his skin and bring out the rash temper he'd had, ironically enough, at about the same age as Ed was now. "Am I not trustworthy enough to have that kind of information? Think I'm going to sell it to the military?"

"You're so... Stop acting so goddamn stupid!"

"Then what, Ed? Why won't you explain it to me?"

"You don't need it!" Ed yelled, fist pounding the back of the sofa. "Fuck, Mustang, do you think I fixed you just so you could kill yourself?"

That made him pause. "What?"

"You might use it. If you knew, you might use it someday and..." Ed looked aside. "You know what it does. To the person using it, I mean. I don't want..."

Roy was silent for a moment, although inwardly he was screaming _you mean what it did to you? Did you think I could_ ever _forget that?_ "You think I'd screw it up."

Ed shrugged, glaring at the carpet. "It could happen. Wouldn't be hard."

"For god's sake, you _do_ think I'm too stupid." Roy swore beneath his breath, more than a little offended. "Can't you manage to have at least a little confidence in my ability? I'm not a fucking idiot, Edward- control is at the heart of my alchemy, unlike your own, and yet you managed."

"I've also got a little more room for error than you," Ed retorted, his face coloring.

Oh for... "So now you're saying I'm old." Was this really what it was coming down to? Stupid, personal blows? Roy sighed, rubbing his face. "I'm not on my deathbed, you know."

"Shut up."

Fantastic. The Colonel had been in enough debates with Ed in the past to recognize that the young man was out of rational arguments, and was starting to simply dig in his heels. "Ed... I don't plan on using it. Not if I can help it but... I told you before, I _need_ to know it. Just in case."

The look Ed shot him was such a desperate melange of emotions that Roy had no idea how to interpret it. "You're not going to give this up, are you? Even after I _told_ you, it's not anything you have to balance."

Roy sighed deeply. At some point his hand had moved to lay atop the jagged pink scar that was a constant reminder of being wrenched from the very mouth of death. Of the hole in his side, where mortality had sunk its teeth. "No. I'm sorry, but I can't. Please, Ed. If I'm to have any peace at all, I need to know."

Ed hissed something poisonous under his breath and slammed a hand down on the armrest as he rose, stalking over to Roy's desk and thrusting reports and books aside without care or caution until he found a blank sheet of paper. Snatching up a pencil, he glared at it as though he held a centipede before setting it to the paper and beginning to draw with strong, sure strokes.

Roy watched him, fascinated, but not simply because of the purpose of the array. Despite not needing to use written arrays in his alchemy, Ed still demonstrated consummate skill while tracing out the arcs and symbols, and the image taking form on the paper was easily the most complicated design Roy had ever seen. The lines wove together in increasingly intricate forms, symbols linking them until the older alchemist was no longer able to follow them at all, simply staring in awe and wondering how in the hell Ed managed to carry such a thing in his head.

After several minutes, Ed threw the pen down and stared at the paper in disgust. With a curl of his lip, he spat, "There. Hope you're fucking happy now." He spun around and stomped from the room before Roy could reply, leaving the Colonel looking over the paper as anticipation twined alongside the ache of regret in his gut. He didn't like upsetting Ed, but he couldn't control the urgency that twisted within him at the thought of their situations reversed, of Ed failing and dying before his eyes, and him helpless to do anything. There were too many years of reading Ed's reports, of figuring out the terrible things that had happened that Fullmetal always left unsaid, of visits to the hospital where a battered and bleeding young man would still stubbornly insist that he was _fine_...

But looking at the array, and its tight mesh of symbols and lines, Roy felt another kind of sinking in his stomach. It could take years just to interpret it, to decipher its logic and understand the flows of energy. And once he did, he could never practice it, or test his understanding. Picking up the page, Roy tried to follow one of the lines into the maze, and was more than a little daunted when he lost track of it less than a quarter of the way around the circle.

Clearly this was going to take a great deal more work than he'd anticipated.

He tucked the paper into one of his journals, careful not to smudge the lines, and slipped the book under his arm, making a mental note to purchase a quality magnifier so that he'd be better able to study the complex design. Perhaps it _was_ the work of a lifetime, but he owed Ed that much, at least.

* * *

The next morning Ed was civil, if curt, giving Roy the correct impression that he didn't want to talk about the array any more, and that he wasn't a bit sorry for how he'd behaved. The Colonel felt a bit more guilt over his own behavior, but it was rather clear that if he brought the subject up even to apologize, the fragile peace they were maintaining would be shattered. So he kept their conversation neutral and pleasant, and breathed a sigh of relief when Ed left for the library just after lunch.

When Ed returned things were a little more relaxed, though the distance was still there. Dinner was a quiet affair; afterwards they squabbled over the couch in what had become a normal part of their evening routine and once they'd settled, shoulder to shoulder, things felt almost comfortable again.

Sunday found them back to their usual selves, discussing alchemical theory and tales from the office and the field, and Ed launched into a lengthy discourse during lunch on why the current Fuhrer had his head stuck up his ass. Roy listened with interest, nodding in agreement when Ed paused for breath (the young man actually had some very good points) and it seemed that the disagreement from Friday evening was forgotten.

But climbing up the stairs for bed that night, Ed suddenly paused halfway up and glared down at Roy, who had just put out the fire and was checking the lock on the front door.

"If you ever use that array, " he promised, a fierce gleam in his eyes, "I'll punch you in the face, hard. With the automail." Turning his back, his mood seemed to shift just as abruptly as it had darkened, and he added over his shoulder, "'Night, bastard."

Roy watched his back disappear down the hall, his spirit lifting and a bemused smile flirting at the edge of his lips as he recognized tacit forgiveness in the gesture. "Goodnight, Edward."


	2. Chapter 2

"...and do try to refrain from too much property damage this time. New Absner is a rather poor town, and without many resources, and massive destruction would create all kinds of problems with the populace."

"Meaning you'd have to kiss a lot of ass and pay for the repairs," Ed retorted, flipping idly through his mission briefing. "I hear you."

"It would also generate the kind of antagonism against the state that we really can't afford in the West right now." Roy frowned over his stack of reports, tapping a pen irritably against the blotter. "As long as you've been doing this, I really shouldn't have to tell you these things."

"So _don't_." The young man yawned, letting his heels drop from where they rested on the table as he sat forward. "We done yet?"

"Pretty much. Do you understand the assignment?"

"Spy on the mayor, make sure he isn't trafficking in alchemized gold, report in daily, don't ruin your reputation, don't wreck the place, and don't piss anyone off." Ed graced him with a smart-assed smirk that Roy was fairly sure had been adopted from his own repertoire. "I think I've got it."

"I should hope so. I don't want there to be any trouble this time." He had too much paperwork lately as it was, without the additional headache of covering for a wayward alchemist. With a faint, long suffering sigh Roy turned his attention back to the piles of reports covering the desk. "And don't forget to empty your garbage before you leave. I don't want to deal with any funny smells coming out of your room while you're gone."

Ed snorted. "Okay, _mom_." Heavy boots clunked as the young man made his way toward the door, and when he was nearly there Roy spoke again.

"Have a safe trip," he said, quietly, but with more warmth than their previous exchange. Ed paused- looking back over his shoulder, most likely- and then Roy heard the door open.

"Don't burn the house down," Ed replied, voice light and teasing, and Roy smiled to himself as the footsteps receded.

* * *

He'd thought that it would be nice, having the house to himself again for a while. Before he'd acquired a housemate, Roy had been perfectly content with his solitary existence, the quiet allowing him to concentrate on reading or studying, or the occasional reports that he took home. When he'd wanted company, he would go out on a date, or to a bar with fellow officers or alchemists.

But his new norm consisted of bleary gold stares before the coffee was made in the morning, of loud voices and passionate arguments about obscure scientific theories. The quiet he'd once taken refuge in now rang with emptiness. With Ed gone the house seemed larger than before, no longer familiar and, more bored than he could have anticipated, it didn't take long before Roy had taken to spending his evenings out. He dusted off his black book, calling several well-visited numbers in it and, by the second week's end, adding a few new ones. He fell back into his old lifestyle as though he'd never been apart from that existence, like he hadn't spent nearly a year away from the dating scene, and he amused himself with the thought that Ed didn't have anything on him.

But it wasn't nearly so satisfying as he'd once found it to be. Pretty, amiable women- the kind he'd once dated by the score- didn't hold his attention. Going out, night after night, in an endless parade of dates, dinners, and beautiful but vacuous faces seemed more of a chore than a pleasure. Something indefinable had been leeched from his appreciation of such activities, and what enjoyment he managed rang hollow inside him.

On the evenings when he passed up the chance at company, Roy would sit at home at his desk, examining the strange and difficult array Ed had drawn for him. The twisting lines threatened to give him headaches, but he worked through them, not wanting to press his reprieve from Ed's temper by studying the array in his presence. And the longer he looked at it, the more he realized that, although there was an immense amount of detail to the design, the array was actually rather simple. It was more a matter of understanding the balance of the design than of interpreting the pattern of its energy.

However, he still wouldn't claim to understand the array enough to consider using it, even without the dire payment it demanded, and Ed's very real threat to his face. This wasn't the kind of transmutation that gave second chances, and he'd be_damn_ sure he knew it inside and out before even contemplating touching one of its lines.

But well before he had more than a modest grasp on it, Roy received a call at the office. Fullmetal. Wanting to be picked up from the station that evening.

"_I'm tired_," the young man growled, his voice sounding thin and metallic as it crackled down the bad connection. "_And it's on your way home anyway. Not like I'm asking you to go way outta your way_."

Roy brushed off Hawkeye's attempt to pass him another folder, gesturing irritably at the telephone. "I suppose that can be arranged," he replied rather officiously, hoping that the Lieutenant would get the wrong idea, and think the call was important enough to leave him alone for a bit. "But it's highly irregular."

"_So's me asking in the first place. Don't worry- I'm not gonna make a habit of it._ "

A silent sigh slipped from Roy's lips as his office door shut at Hawkeye's back, and he was able to speak normally again. "I'm not worried about that. What time is your train?"

"_Oh, was Hawkeye in? Got news for you- she's been on to your 'official phone call' ploy for_ever. _You use it too often. Anyway, my train's supposed to be in at six thirty, though with the time we've been making, I'm betting it's closer to a quarter past six. This thing's been flyin' and... shit, there's the call to board now. Gotta go._"

"I'll see you this evening then."

"_Yeah. Don't be late, bastard. _"

The line disconnected with a click. Setting down the receiver, Roy leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. It had occurred to him to wonder if Edward's return would feel awkward or inconvenient, disrupting the way he'd been reforging his previous life during the past few weeks. But what he'd found instead was anticipation, curiosity as to what Ed had been up to, and the urge to tell a few tales of his own. The desire to catch up with an old friend, and he shook his head in amusement. He and Edward, friends. That's one that probably even Maes never saw coming.

* * *

To Roy's surprise, Ed didn't disembark alone.

"Hey bastard." A sharp-edged smile cut his way. "This is Merisel. Merisel, this is Colonel Roy Mustang. He's a bastard, don't listen to anything he says."

Roy bent over the slim hand he was offered, giving the young woman a winning smile. "Charmed," he replied, and it was no less than the truth.

Wherever Ed had found the petite redhead currently hanging off his arm, Roy rather hoped he would share the location, so that he could inquire as to whether the lovely lady had a sister there. Merisel was only a little taller than Ed, small but statuesque, and with a presence that would fill a room. Dancing green eyes met his as she raked him over with an assessing gaze, leaving no doubt that the mind behind those eyes was as sharp as the cut of her fitted black coat. Once she'd taken his measure, she brightened with a dimpling smile.

"Mr. Elric insisted that I impose upon you to drive me to my flat," she explained, her tone one of resigned amusement. "I hate to be a bother, but he was very persuasive."

"He is that, and it's no trouble at all. Please, allow me." Roy reached for her bag, but Ed beat him to it.

"I've got it," he growled, hoisting it along with his own battered valise, and Roy only barely restrained himself from chuckling over Ed's possessive behavior. Although with a lady like that, he supposed he couldn't blame Ed for being protective.

She gave him the address where she was staying, and Ed held the door so that she could get into the car's back seat, then gave Roy a sly wink before sliding in after her. The three chatted amicably as the car wended though the city streets, but Roy had the impression that his presence was entirely unnecessary. Ed and Merisel seemed barely conscious of him, talking with great animation and furtively touching hands and arms when they thought he wouldn't notice in the mirror. When they finally arrived at the building housing her flat, Roy was unsurprised when Ed immediately offered to carry her bags up for her. Nor was he shocked to find himself waiting in the car for nearly half an hour before Ed reemerged, grinning in triumph, although that wasn't enough to keep him from being grumpy about it.

"Got her number, and a date for dinner tomorrow," he crowed, piling into the front seat alongside Roy and ignoring the sour look he received in return. "Fuck, I'm the luckiest guy in Central! Did you _see_ her?"

* * *

Roy didn't realize just how much he'd actually been looking forward to spending his evenings with Ed again until the young man was back, and completely unavailable.

After seeing the girl Ed had taken up with, Roy couldn't entirely blame him. Merisel was gorgeous, intelligent, and far more refined than any girlfriend he might have expected the comparatively socially inept youth to end up with. But judging from the number of calls to the house for Ed, and the amount of time he was spending out of the house- including overnight visits- she seemed to be just as enamored of him.

He wasn't jealous. Not at all. On the contrary, Roy felt very strongly that Ed deserved some happiness in his life, and if he got that from this girl, then that was all he could ask. And yet...

The longer things went on, the more strained Ed appeared. There was something different about him; his predatory presence had been replaced by something less domineering, something a little warier. Not that Ed had weakened in any other aspect of his life; he still raised hell in the office, gave lip to anyone who pissed him off, and generally lived up to his aggressive reputation. No, only with Merisel was he cautious, subdued. Although he was still eager to see her, and proud to flaunt her in front of his friends, there remained the shadow of a weird, desperate struggle to maintain her approval, and Roy couldn't say he cared for that at all.

"High maintenance," he suggested to Ed one night, and caught a glimpse of weary agreement slipping across the young man's face before gold bangs whipped the air, the acceptance shaken off.

"It's not like that," Ed muttered, fists clenching as he turned aside. "I really like her."

Which only made Roy's unfocused misgivings throb harder in his chest.

* * *

It was the kind of relationship that a generous soul would call 'passionate', while a less charitably inclined observer might think that 'unhealthy' was a better proper term. Hot and cold, loving and clashing. A constant struggle for control, though the sheer magnetism they displayed together was undeniable. And yet it was the term 'destructive' that came to Roy's mind most often; watching silently from the edge of the picture, he couldn't help but see how Ed's obsessive nature was tearing the young man to pieces.

Not that Merisel would have made things easy for him even without the intensity of his focus. Beneath the sweetness of her appearance lay a temper to rival Ed's own, and a mind almost as keenly manipulative as Roy's. It had only taken one evening- a double date with Lourdes, an old friend of his- for Roy to recognize the subtle ways that she nudged Ed's emotions as well as his actions, and the realization burned his stomach far worse than the glass of red wine in which he'd indulged that evening.

He wouldn't deny that he himself had been guilty of such things. Everyone knew that he'd used Ed's anger like a goad, that Roy had withheld information or embellished details somewhat in order to aim the fractious alchemist. It wasn't even a secret; Ed knew as well as anyone that the Colonel did this. As an officer, he wouldn't hesitate to paint whatever picture was necessary to get the required results, but he had never, _never_ allowed it to get personal and hurtful.

Not that Roy ever saw Merisel stoop to outright attacks. Instead, she fed Ed's guilt, ever so subtly, plucking at that unhealed wound and fraying at the young man's confidence even as she smiled and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. The barbs were always couched as jokes or vacuous asides, brushed off with a wave and a tittering laugh, but Roy had met her eyes that last time, and saw...

She knew. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew that he saw it. And she didn't care if he saw. Right then, Roy felt certain that he knew exactly what kind of woman Merisel was. The appraising, heated stare she gave him as he spoke of his upcoming promotion review wasn't even necessary to confirm it. He'd met enough women who were grasping and forever hungry for power, for titles and status and the need to feel important. He'd just never thought that Ed would let a person like that into his life.

The drive home was awkward; Roy and his date rode in the front, while Ed and Merisel sat quietly in the back. A couple of times Roy stole glimpses of them in the mirror; Merisel clutching Ed's hand, Edward leaning toward the window, looking both exhausted and unhappy. The expression made Roy's hands clench on the steering wheel.

He walked Lourdes to her door when they arrived, and returned to a car whose atmosphere had shifted in the time he'd been gone. Merisel looked faintly irritated, and Ed's face was flushed with what Roy knew very well was suppressed anger. The few minutes it took before they arrived at her building were spent in silence, and Roy was relieved when he pulled up to the curb, and Ed got out to walk her up. As he had the first night he'd met her, Roy found himself waiting an unnecessarily long time for Ed to return, and when he did it was with a slow dragging step that told Roy all he needed to know.

"Merisel kinda wants me to hang out awhile," Ed explained, shuffling closer and rubbing the back of his neck with his automail. "Sorry to leave you hanging out here."

"She talked you into staying," Roy stated flatly and Ed glared at him, but nodded all the same. "I didn't get the impression that you _wanted_ to stay."

"Didn't really. Got work tomorrow, and I'm tired, but it's cool. It's fine."

The Colonel shook his head, making an exasperated noise. "You know, you don't always have to do things her way, Edward."

Ed shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Sometimes, it's just easier," he mumbled in explanation, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. "I don't wanna fuck this up."

Roy propped his elbow on the door of the car, staring up into Ed's face. "_You_ aren't fucking anything up. It takes two to make a relationship work..."

Gold eyes blazed, and Ed's face immediately shuttered. "You don't know anything," he snarled, taking a step back from the car, "and I sure as _hell_ didn't ask for your opinion. This is what I _want_, Mustang, I want this to work, I want to be with her..." He broke off, glancing over his shoulder at the building. "Fuck, I gotta go. She's waiting for me."

He turned on his heel, trudging back toward the door while Roy stared at his back and the lamplight gleaming sun-bright on his hair, even through the gloom. The young man's proud, cocky stance was hunched, his sure gait hesitant, and for an instant Roy envisioned a wolf, collared and brought to heel. Moments later, Ed was swallowed up in the doorway of the apartment building, gone from view, and Roy wanted to pound on the steering wheel with frustration. How could anyone who claimed to care take someone as vibrant as Ed, and reduce him to _that_? But he'd get no thanks for interfering, and so Roy turned the car on and pulled out into the street, his mouth set in a hard, bitter line.

_Where's your equivalence, Edward? You give her everything. What does she give you?_

* * *

Muffled arguments that seeped through beneath closed doors. Curses muttered, barely audible, and slamming doors. A housemate who existed like a ghost in his home, and too many evenings spent alone on his sofa. Roy would have welcomed the need to fend off elbows and heels, to bicker over feet on his cushion, or who had more room.

But Ed had it bad, and Roy knew very well that nothing he said would sway the young man's opinion of his girlfriend. Despite all the grief she gave him, there was still that happily besotted gleam in his eyes when things were good between them, even if those times were rarer now than when he'd begun seeing her. No matter how much they fought Ed refused to hear a bad word against her, and finally Roy stopped even trying to make him see reason before he alienated his friend entirely. When things finally fell apart- and Roy had no doubts whatsoever that they would- it was going to hit Ed like a freight train, and that knowledge sat heavily in the pit of his stomach; a prolonged, painful anticipation of events beyond his control.

He wasn't even able to study the array Ed had given him, despite the other alchemist's absence from the home. He'd pulled it out a time or two, bored and lonely, although he'd never admit to the latter, but the concentration required for such an intensive project simply wasn't there. Every time he began studying the sigils or tracing the flows of energy, his mind was inevitably drawn back to Edward, and the blind spot within the young man's devastating genius that kept him from seeing Merisel for who she was.

It actually came as some relief to him when Hawkeye brought in the mission briefing with his morning coffee, and he saw that it was an assignment perfectly suited to Ed's skills. And Fullmetal took the news surprisingly well; Roy almost asked him if having some time apart from Merisel would do them both good, but stopped himself before the words formed. Not only was it an inappropriate question to be asked in the workplace, he simply didn't know how to phrase the question without it causing offense. Sighing, Roy watched Ed striding away across the parade ground below his window, heading back home to pack for the trip. Perhaps he'd find the right thing to say by the time he got home.

Luckily, Ed was still at the house when Roy arrived, and suddenly the flack he was going to face from the Lieutenant in the morning for cutting out early seemed justified. He slung his jacket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, calling upstairs to inquire as to whether or not Ed would be around for dinner that evening.

"Yeah," came the shouted reply, followed by a thump and some muffled curses. "Be down in a minute."

Not bothering to change from his uniform, Roy began setting the table and laying out cartons of Xingian takeaway he'd picked up, a cuisine Ed loved but seldom had anymore, as Merisel was allergic to the spices. Even if it didn't take the edge off of the conversation he hoped to have with Edward, it should at least make the young man a little happier. The old saying that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach could have been coined with Ed in mind.

As Roy expected, Ed brightened as soon as he saw the little waxed cartons amid the dishes. "Xingian! Fuck yeah! Thanks, Roy!" Dropping into his chair, he flipped open the first carton he grabbed and began spooning the food onto his plate, not even bothering to identify it.

Roy joined him with a bit more decorum, laying a napkin across his lap and serving himself quickly before Ed could decimate each little box. For some time the meal passed without conversation, only Ed's infrequent sounds of appreciation punctuating the silence. Once the cartons were emptied and Ed was nibbling on an almond cookie with a glazed, sated look in his eyes, Roy thought that perhaps it was safe to broach the subject.

"So," he drawled, toying with his fork, "were you planning on taking the morning train?"

Ed grunted agreeably, his expression still pleasantly unfocused. "Yeah. Gotta go by and see Merisel before I go." A sound somewhere between a laugh and a cough huffed up from his throat. "She'll either be thrilled that I'm off on some kinda dangerous adventure that'll let her brag about me, or pissed as hell 'cause she had something planned. No way to tell which."

"Hmm." _Why do you put up with it, Ed, why do you let her keep shoving you this way and that, you've never let _anyone_, and why can't I just _ask you _this? And since when have _I _ever been afraid of making you angry? _

"Actually," Ed said into the pause, as Roy fumbled for a way to voice his concerns, "I wanted to ask a favor of you. While I'm gone."

Edward's face was tipped toward his empty plate, eyes distant and thoughtful. And Ed never asked him for anything, it seemed to be anathema to his character to do anything other than fend for himself, and so Roy didn't hesitate to reply, "Of course."

"While I'm gone," Ed repeated, "would you... I dunno, look after Merisel? I wanted to let her know she could call you while I'm out of town, you know, if she needed anything. Most of her friends are real fuckups..."

_Men_, Roy's mind amended.

"...and I don't think they'd be all that much help to her anyway."

_And you don't trust them._

"So you'd rather put your gorgeous girlfriend in the hands of an inveterate womanizer," Roy remarked mildly, because teasing was a far easier way to handle the awkwardness of this situation than a frank reply. As much as he disliked Merisel for her influence on Edward, the young man's willingness to place the welfare of the woman he treasured in Roy's hands displayed a monumental degree of trust, and _that_ was something he could not take lightly.

Ed shrugged, the corner of his mouth tilting upward as he considered Roy's jibe. "Yeah, well, I know where you sleep. And if I beat the shit out of you, no one would think twice anyway, 'cause they all know you're a girlfriend-stealing bastard." Abruptly the grin vanished, and Ed was staring at him with surprisingly candid eyes. "I know you wouldn't step out of line with her," he told Roy, quite seriously. "And I know if she's in any kind of trouble, there's no one better than you to help her out of it."

_When did this happen?_ Roy wondered in amazement. There was no hesitation in Ed's request, nothing less than utter belief in Roy, and it shook him to his core because he understood what this meant. There were very few people whom Ed trusted unequivocally, and to be included in that number was something he had never expected, no matter what past they shared. Despite his antipathy toward Merisel he replied, "I'd be honored," and meant it quite truthfully.

Ed nodded, his expression melting into a contented smile that Roy couldn't help but mirror. "Thanks," the young alchemist told him. "I feel a lot better, knowing there's someone around to look after her."

And with that, there was no way Roy could possibly bring up his concerns about the relationship, not with Ed looking so relaxed and pleased. It was with mixed emotions that he bid Ed a good evening as he set off, valise in hand, to spend the night with Merisel before departing in the morning.

_The good news_, Roy thought glumly as he settled on the empty sofa, _is that she'll probably never call._

* * *

The mission was to have taken a week, but after only four days Ed called the office, and told Roy that the factory he'd been sent to investigate was creating far worse things than alchemized gold.

"_Whole fucking place stinks of alchemy_," he stated. "_Lots more than would be needed to make gold. It feels almost like..._"

"Human transmutation?" Roy rubbed his face, feeling a headache coming on. Not that, please, not another person foolish enough...

"_Nah. Not that. But still pretty big. Chimeras, maybe_." There was an odd hitch in Ed's voice, one which Roy thought he could possibly puzzle out if only he could see the young man's eyes as he spoke. But they were separated by a day and a half of hard rail travel and a small mountain range, and he had only the whispery, echoing telephone line for a gauge.

"Do you need backup?" He asked this now, instead of assuming Fullmetal could handle matters by himself, hoping that perhaps Edward might one day accept assistance instead of seeing just how close to death he could scrape. Funny how he worried more for Ed now than he ever had when Fullmetal was little more than a brash young punk with more mouth than common sense.

Of course then, he'd had Alphonse with him. But his brother lived in Riesembul now, well away from military assignments and mad alchemists and power-hungry idiots.

Ed made a disparaging noise, rattling down the line like a box of pebbles. "_Nah, they'd just get in the way. I can handle this one, I just wanted you to know it's gonna take longer than we thought._"

"Don't take any unnecessary risks," Roy admonished. "If things get too dangerous, back off, call me, and I'll send in reinforcements. That's an order, Fullmetal."

"_Yeah, yeah. Look, you _know _I don't go out of my way to get in trouble._"

It was Roy's turn to snort.

"_Fuck you, I don't. Just... shut up, Mustang._" Ed sounded cross, but also a little amused. There was a pause, and then he added, "_Have you heard from Merisel?_"

Where he had earlier wished the distance between them closed, Roy was now thankful for it, as he made a sour face. "I haven't heard anything from her. I assume everything is all right?" A question, because Ed had surely been calling her, and if he was asking...

There was silence down the line. Then, "_I don't know. I haven't been able to reach her since I got in town, and I thought..._" Another pause. "_Fuck, I don't know what I thought. Just... lemme know if you hear from her, okay?_"

Roy felt as though his face could have been carved from stone, no matter that Ed couldn't see him. "I'll let you know immediately if I do," he promised, and tried to ignore the sharp bursts of anger that wanted to flare. He didn't _know_ anything; this could be entirely innocent, a misunderstanding. Merisel could be out with friends, or visiting family, or doing any number of things that were _not_ the unscrupulous scenarios his mind immediately leapt to. "Would you like me to call on her, make sure she's fine?"

Ed sighed. "_No. I'm sure I'll catch her soon, I just wondered. Speaking of, I should probably try calling her now._"

"Have a good evening, then." Roy said. "Take care of yourself.

Laughter. "_I'm not a kid, Mustang. Don't worry about me._"

"I worry about the letters of grievances I receive after all of your missions," Roy smirked. "I've got a file cabinet full of the damn things. You should read them sometime."

"_You keep some really strange things,_" Ed snickered again. "_'Night, bastard._"

"Goodnight Edward."

* * *

The next time Roy heard from Ed, some eight days later, the young alchemist was four towns away from where he'd started, responsible for only _one_ structural collapse, and currently accused of starting a riot. He hadn't yet caught the alchemist he was pursuing, but the evidence was growing and he just _knew_ he was getting close. Oh, and the structure he mentioned? Happened to be a bridge, and "...things are cool, by the way, Merisel's fine."

"_What?_" Roy roared into the phone, loud enough that heads peeked around the corner to stare at him, half-standing, hand in a painful ball where he'd slammed it down against his desk. "A bridge? A _riot_? Fullmetal, what in the _hell_ are..."

For once, Ed wasn't the one shouting. "_Fuck, Mustang, I told you, it's okay. I'll take care of all that shit, __I told them I would, don't know why the fuck they're bitching about it..._"

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying very hard not to shout. Beneath his elbow, brown stains were spreading across the daily reports from the coffee cup he'd upset. "A _bridge_, Fullmetal. Without even going into the engineering considerations of constructing a new one, did you not stop and think..."

"_I know, I get it, whatever, can we move on now? This is important!_"

"And a _riot_?"

"_It was unintentional. But it turned out to be pretty decent cover. Got me into the militia headquarters, which I'd been wondering how to do. Look, I didn't call so you could bitch me out._"

Roy opened his mouth to reply, but paused, a deepening line creasing his brow. "Reports indicate that the Brownfield plantation militia has been locked down and surrounded by the local law enforcement for over thirty six hours."

"_I don't have a lot of time right now, you gonna keep wasting it with this bullshit?_"

"You're calling me from inside there, aren't you?"

Silence.

Sitting ramrod stiff, adrenaline soaring through his veins, Roy asked in a careful, precisely moderated tone, his control strained to the breaking point, "And just _how_, exactly, does this constitute _not taking unnecessary risks?_"

"_I told you- I'm close. I've almost got this guy. Some of the shit he's making... I can't let him him get away with it. I _won't_. Now listen, you wanted me to ask for help when I needed it. Well, here's me asking._"

Part of him wanted to scream that this was not what he meant at all, but Ed _was_ asking for help and his worried mind kicked into gear, trained for action no matter the circumstances. "What do you need?"

"_I need the power cut to the plantation. If you can manage that, I'll be able to take care of the rest._"

A few hundred miles and a mountain range apart. Roy rested his head on his hand, still clutching the telephone like a lifeline. "This may take a little time."

"_As long as you can get it done sometime in the next twelve hours or so, that should be okay. Outside of that, and things get trickier._"

Roy was sure he didn't want to know how.

"I'll get right on it. Anything else?"

"_Nah, that was it. Oh, but if you hear from her, tell Merisel why I didn't call the past few nights. She's probably mad at me._"

_You're hiding inside an aggressive rogue militia's stronghold, in pursuit of an alchemist suspected of making chimeras who is probably working _with _that militia, and you're worried your girlfriend is getting pissy about you not calling. There is a flaw in this logic. _Gritting his teeth, Roy said, "I'll pass it on. Now if that was everything, I'd better get on with your request. But I expect a call from you _immediately_ once this is resolved, no excuses. Do you understand? Before the dust even settles, you get back on the damn phone!"

"_Fuck, okay! Don't get so worked up, everything's gonna be fi-... Shit, gotta go._"

The line went dead against his ear.

* * *

For the next three days the headquarters was a whirlwind of activity, a constant flow of paperwork and personnel between his office and Investigations. The power loss Ed had requested was easily accomplished within a space of hours, but this also had the effect of taking out most of their sources of communication with the plantation. Which was just far enough outside of town to put a long delay in messages from the military's local contacts.

As the Colonel was putting his coat on to leave the office, his phone rang. Ed, sounding tired but pleased, almost smug. "_I got the asshole._"

"Fullmetal." One sleeve on, half the coat hanging limp down his back. Roy leaned against the desk, heart thudding painfully in his chest. "Took you long enough to let us know."

"_There was a little clean up to do before I could call. Point is, I got the shit who was making those things. And the militia is broken up, the local authorities are chasing down the last of them now. I'm just wrapping my end of things up, and then I'll be heading back with my report._"

He took a long, quiet breath. "Were you injured?"

"_No, I'm fine._"

"Would _I_ think you were fine, if I could see you right now?"

"_Shut up, bastard, I _said _I'm fine. I'll be on the train tomorrow._"

A small smile crept across the Colonel's face, relief allowing his humor to surface once more. "What about the bridge?"

"_What? The ... oh, shit. I forgot about that._"

"So I see. Will you be able to repair the structure, or should I request Major Armstrong to attend to it?"

"_No... I can do it. Was just in a hurry to get back. Fuck, all right, it won't take that long. Won't be able to get away tomorrow then, but I'll be on the next train out._"

The smile on Roy's face grew. "Travel safely."

* * *

The next evening, as he read his newspaper on the sofa, Roy's telephone rang. He rose to answer it, mind still occupied with the article he'd been reading, and was surprised when it was a familiar woman's voice that greeted him on the other end of the line. "_Colonel Mustang?_"

Recognition summoned his thoughts back to the present, and reflexive courtesy took over. "Call me Roy, Merisel. There's no need to be so formal when I'm not at work.. What can I do for you?"

"_I just wanted to pass on a message_," she told him. "_Ed called a little while ago. He's having trouble with the bridge, and thinks he'll be a few days longer. I thought you might want to know._"

He did, and thanked her for the consideration. "I would hope that he'd have called the office to inform us, but however the information arrives, it's appreciated. Edward is a law unto himself."

Merisel laughed, low and rich. "_Yes, he is that. Although I imagine you have ways of keeping him under control._"

Roy frowned at the comment, hearing things unsaid beneath her words. "Not really. I can try and predict which way he'll move, but that isn't very easy."

"_So modest_," she purred, and something prickled hot and cold along his skin. "_But you've commanded him for years, I'm sure you've figured all sorts of ways around him by now._"

"What are you implying?" He knew, oh god, he already knew, but he had to hear her say it, had to have more than merely the suspicion...

"_I'm lonely tonight._" A smoky smile curled through her voice and despite his disgust, Roy's body responded to the intimations. "_And I'm good at keeping secrets_."

His mind spun; auburn curls stretched across his pillows. Her body, lithe and receptive beneath his own, pert breasts exposed, slender legs splaying. That mocking little mouth greedy against his own, and lower, taking him like a whore...

Roy never hesitated. "Don't call here again."

"_Excuse me?_" The sultry tone was gone, vanished in the ice of her snapped reply.

"I believe I spoke plainly enough. Did you not understand?"

She laughed unpleasantly. "_Your reputation really is overblown, Colonel, if you're not man enough to take me up on my offer._"

His teeth ground together. "Edward is my friend. And you aren't anything I would want. Don't call again, Merisel."

"_As long as Edward lives there, I have every right-!_"

"You have _no_ right," he interrupted, voice pitched low but with hard authority in every word. "Not in my house. Never call here again."

He hung up before she could lash out at him and stood over the telephone, adrenaline trembling through his veins. How long? How many men had she courted, while Ed was away? Did she do this even when he _was_ in town? Roy had known the woman was bad news, had seen what she was but, damn it all, he'd wanted to be wrong! Ed could have lorded it over him forever and he wouldn't have minded one bit, if only she didn't turn out to be the deceptive, selfish minx he suspected. _How many?_

This was going to break Ed apart. And after everything he'd put into the relationship, all the bullshit he'd endured, it just wasn't fair. Ed didn't know enough yet to hold something of his heart back when he shared it. It didn't occur to him to protect himself; he gave everything, and damn the consequences. Impotent rage and deep sorrow filled Roy, knowing very well that there could be no good end to this now.

The telephone shrilled loudly, and Roy took a quick step back, startled. He stared as the thing pealed again, demanding, then backed away, reaching for his coat and sliding into his boots.

Most likely, the caller was Merisel, wanting to have the final word. But it was just as likely to be Ed, reporting in about the delay. And Roy didn't want to talk to either one of them. If that bitch was calling, he was certain he'd say or do something he'd later regret. And if it was Ed... he couldn't lie to Ed. If he spoke with him, the truth would come out, and if there was one thing he knew with absolute clarity, it was that Ed didn't need to receive this news over the phone. He wanted to tell him, and he would, but not like this. Not now.

Patting his pocket to make sure his keys were there, Roy wrenched the coat on and left the ringing phone at his back, hurrying out into the evening with a brisk stride.


	3. Chapter 3

Liver damage _sucked_.

Roy sat hunched at the bar, nursing the same beer he'd ordered when he first arrived, nearly two hours earlier. It had long gone tepid and flat but, unable to drink to the excesses he craved, he clutched the pint glass and took infrequent sips from its lip, as though in sullen defiance of both his ravaged organ and the unpalatability of the ale. Only the memory of the searing pain that had accompanied his only binge since his goring kept him from throwing medical advice to the winds and emptying as many bottles as he could.

It was a conditioned response, the way he'd dealt with so many bad things in his past, and he recognized that it was an extremely unhealthy way to react, as well as just being a shitty idea in general. But oh, how he wanted the numbness that alcohol provided. The ability to not think about how awful people all too often were, and the knowledge that there was worse yet to come. He took another sip of the beer, mouth twisting at the sour wash over his tongue, and reminded himself yet again why he wasn't ordering a second, or a third, or a scotch. Stupid, fucking, lacerated liver...

"You look like someone just shot your dog."

Turning to his left, Roy saw a woman settling onto the stool next to his. Dark curls nestled around a long face, too angular to be called beautiful, but not without appeal. She glanced at his beer, shaking her head in quiet amusement as she cocked a thumb its way. "And that probably isn't helping matters."

"It's not," he agreed. "That's why I'm drinking it."

She considered that, then nodded. "In that case, I think I'll have what you're having," she stated, gesturing for the bartender. "I don't really want to drink tonight either."

It was an obvious opening, but Roy refused to take it. The last thing he was interested in was an even remotely flirtatious encounter after witnessing firsthand the ugly implosion of one relationship that evening. "I'm sorry," he said, rising from his stool and tossing down enough cens to cover the tab and then some. "I don't think I'm the kind of company you're looking for this evening."

The woman gave him a skeptical look. "And what makes you think I'm looking for company? Just because I spoke to you? Please. I just thought you looked unhappy, and you have a kind face. I don't like to see nice people sad. It's nothing personal."

Despite everything, Roy felt a flicker of amusement. "You sound like a friend of mine. I believe his goal in life is puncturing my ego."

She gave him a grin that was more smirk than smile, and winked. "He sounds like a very reasonable fellow."

"Oh, reasonable isn't the word that comes to mind for Edward," he replied with the edge of laughter in his voice and, unbidden, his mind produced an image of how Ed was likely to react to Merisel's infidelity. His humor drained away, and Roy reached for his glass. "He is a good friend, however."

"There's that sorry face again." Her beer was set in front of her, and she took a drink of it only to make a horrified grimace. "Oh my- this is the worst thing I've ever tasted!" she exclaimed, giving the glass an offended glare, and Roy couldn't help chuckling. The woman grinned.

"There- that's a much nicer look on you," she told him, a twinkle in her eyes. "My name's Sophie."

* * *

Crisp, red button-up, black pants. Jacket slung over a nearby chair back, polished shoes sitting underneath, and he pulled a tie from his closet to lay with the jacket. Examining himself in the mirror, Roy combed his fingers through still-damp hair and brushed a few errant strands back into place. Almost six o'clock; it had been a good idea to slip out of the office early today.

He had never intended to meet someone while out the other night, and he felt more than a touch of irrational guilt over it. But Ed would be the first to tell him not to pass up a chance out of misplaced remorse. And although Sophie was not the type of woman he would normally have been attracted to, there was a curious chemistry forming between them and it left Roy with a light, fluttery feeling inside that he hadn't known since he was a teenager.

Keys, wallet. Gloves, because even though time had eroded the paranoia of Ishval down to mere caution, it was a habit that never left him. Another glance in the mirror, and as Roy was reaching for his cologne, he heard the rattle of a lock, and then footsteps in the entrance hallway.

Ed? He wasn't due home for another day yet...

Slipping on a glove and tucking the other in his pocket, Roy moved down the stairs with quiet steps until he saw the battered suitcase leaning against the wall where it had clearly been dropped upon entry. A few feet away was a clunky black boot lying on its side, its mate a little ways beyond that. Trailing out the doorway to the living room was a length of red cloth that Roy recognized as Ed's coat. The entire scene was haphazard and careless, and Roy paused on the bottom step, sensing something amiss.

"Edward?" he called out, striding toward the door.

The alchemist glanced up at him as he entered the room, his normally warm eyes hard and brittle. Ed was standing in front of Roy's liquor cabinet, and it was plain from his expression that he'd been contemplating the bottles within. His shoulders were tense, but the young man's stance was defeated, and without preamble Ed stated, "She's fucking someone else."

Roy stopped dead in the doorway, and something in his face must have given him away. Ed's eyes narrowed slightly, his chin lifting in an aggressive tilt. "You knew," he accused in a terrible, hollow voice, and Roy couldn't bring himself to lie.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, looking away in shame. "It wasn't the kind of news that I wanted to tell you over the phone. You didn't need to find out that way."

"Yeah, well I didn't fucking need to find out _this_ way, either!" Ed snarled, throwing his arms wide. Teeth bared, he paced to the fireplace and back as he spoke. "Finished up sooner than I'd thought I would, caught the early train out. Got back in town about an hour ago, and figured I'd drop in and surprise Merisel." He spat a wordless curse, fists clenching at his side. "Fucking surprised her, alright. Lieutenant Colonel Davis, too."

He paused in his circuit, chagrin passing across his face. "Yeah, you might hear from him on Monday. But I'm not sorry, not one damn bit."

Regardless of what Ed had done, Roy didn't feel particularly inclined to hear the Lieutenant Colonel's complaint. Davis had a wife and two young children at home, and had no business philandering. "What happened?" he asked, moving over to the sofa and taking his usual place there.

Ed shrugged irritably, coming around to sit at the other end. "Things got ugly," he said, as if it could have been anything but. "I was yelling at Merisel, and she was screaming at me, and then that fucking ape got in my face, telling me to leave. Asshole wasn't even wearing _pants_, he's been pawing over my girlfriend, and he's got the nerve to tell _me_ to leave!" Gold eyes blazed, and for a moment Ed looked positively feral. "So I hit him."

The odd tilt to Ed's lips said he wasn't telling the whole story. Roy raised an eyebrow, a reminder that he'd find out, sooner or later, "You hit him."

How Ed managed to look embarrassed, angry and smug all at once, Roy had no idea. Face red, mouth pulled tight, but his eyes were dancing as his gaze shifted away. "I punched him in the balls," he mumbled, almost proudly. "The dick had it coming."

Roy chuckled, nodding. "I would have to agree."

Ed was silent for a moment, before hanging his head with a sigh. "Fuck. This is gonna be a mess, isn't it?"

"With Davis?" Roy frowned. "No. You aren't under his command, and neither of you were engaged in military business when you," he coughed delicately, "punched him in the balls. And if he takes it into his head to make problems for you about this, there are a few things I can say to him that ought to settle him down again." Actually, Ed had given Roy quite a bit of ammunition against the Lieutenant Colonel, but considering the circumstances, he wasn't going to thank him for that. But he damn sure _would_ make sure Ed didn't suffer any more from the situation than he already was.

Gold bangs fluttered as Ed huffed out a shaky laugh. "Well, I guess I'm glad I don't have to worry about being court martialed on top of everything else." He looked up at Roy, trying to smile but failing miserably. "Thanks."

Then he blinked, suddenly seeming to actually _see_ Roy. His brows drew together, the look in his eyes sharpening as he put the pieces together. "You're awfully dressed up."

Guilt flared once again in Roy. "Yes," he admitted with some reluctance. "A few days ago, I met someone..."

Ed snorted, and tried to hide the flash of hurt on his face by turning away. "Seems like that's going around," he muttered, slumping down deeper on the sofa. "Well, have a nice time then."

It was to be their first real date, after half a week of lunches and phonecalls, and even now Roy was eager to see her. But the decision he made, watching Ed huddle in on himself, was no real choice at all; dates were pleasant, and Sophie's company particularly so, but friendship was more important. He rose and excused himself, going directly to the telephone, dialing Sophie's number and praying that she'd be understanding.

A few minutes later, he was back in the living room, a pair of small glasses filled with ice in one hand and a bottle of medication in his pocket. Ed didn't look up at him until he set the glasses down on the coffee table, as well as a bottle of fine scotch he'd been looking forward to cracking open just prior to his injury. When he saw the liquor, Ed sat up, twisting to glare at Roy. "You can't drink that, bastard."

"It's mostly meant for you," he replied, breaking the seal and taking a moment to appreciate the smell of the scotch. Oh, he'd missed that.

"There are two glasses," Ed pointed out accusingly.

Amber liquid sloshed as Roy poured it into one of the glasses. "This is an excellent single-malt scotch. I'm not letting you drink it alone. Besides, you haven't the background to appreciate this particular vintage's pedigree."

"First off, alcoholism doesn't count as _background_," Ed growled, taking the glass he was offered. "And liquor doesn't come with_pedigrees_, we're not talking about fucking _dogs_. And weren't you going somewhere?"

Shaking his head in mock regret, Roy lifted his own glass up to the light to better admire its rich hue, and swirled it a few times. "Just because I'm well versed in fine liquor does not make me an alcoholic, Edward," he said with a mild smile. "And this scotch most certainly _does_ have a pedigree. It's older than you, and was brewed in East City's finest distillery, aged in Aerugan sherry casks..."

"Whatever." Ed waved a dismissive hand, his eyes still riveted to Roy. "What about your date?"

Roy sighed, taking a small sip from his glass and letting the scotch roll over his tongue. "I'm not going."

The look Ed gave him suggested he was insane. "You had _plans_," he insisted. "Doubt your date's gonna be too impressed by getting ditched for the night. You don't have to stay home and babysit me, Mustang."

"That's not the point at all." Setting the glass aside, he leaned back and studied the man sitting next to him. Defensive in the manner of an injured animal, Ed was hunched against the sofa's arm, still holding his drink warily between them and trying very hard not to appear weak. "Friends do this for one another," Roy told him gently, "and if Sophie wasn't able to understand that, then she wouldn't be worth my time in the first place."

The younger man digested that for few moments, while Roy contemplated another nip of his scotch. Finally Ed sat up a little straighter, eyeing his glass with interest.

"So this shit is pretty good, huh?"

Roy rolled his eyes heavenward. "That _shit_ is some of the most expensive scotch in Central."

"Great." Ed threw back his glass, tossing its entire contents down his throat in one shot while Roy gaped at the sacrilege. "Keep 'em comin'."

* * *

Roy had sorely miscalculated.

Oh, the scotch had done the trick for Edward, all right; the young man was sprawled in a boneless slump against his shoulder, murmuring unintelligibly about Merisel and his general shit luck with women. The keen edge of his anger had worn off and, as Roy had hoped, Ed was letting out some of the feelings of disappointment and betrayal that he'd been trying to bottle up.

No, the problem was entirely his own. Since recovering from the goring, he'd had only scant amounts of alcohol, that one ill-advised binge aside. As such, his tolerance was nearly nonexistent, and fine scotch packed a far greater punch than stale beer. He was very nearly as wasted as Ed, despite having only partaken of two (or possibly three; he'd gotten confused) glasses.

"Sucks," Ed announced abruptly, his chin digging into Roy's shoulder as he swiveled his head to angle a bleary glare toward the older man's face. "Got nothin' to show from this, nothin'. She fuckin' _used_ me, an' _lied_ to me, an' was a fuckin' _bitch_ half the time anyway, and why do I fall for girls like that, huh? Ones that jus' make me feel stupid an' incomp'tant an'... stupid."

"You're _not_ stupid." At least he managed to control his speech better than Ed. It wasn't much of a consolation, but Roy clung to it all the same.

Ed snickered. "'m not incomp'tant, been in the fuckin' military since I was _twelve_, they don't let incomp'tant people do that. An' I'm smarter than you, right? Even if you do always get the good ones..." His face darkened, mood plummeting. "Fuck, _everyone_does. Even that asshole fuck Davis..."

Anxious to steer Ed out of another downward spiral, Roy quickly said, "No, he's stuck with a _bitch_. Good lookin' bitch, but still a bitch. She's gonna cause him no end of trouble, especially once she figures out he's married."

"He's married?" Ed's eyebrows rose, but there was no malicious glee in his expression as Roy might have expected. Instead he seemed to sink in on himself, looking broken and sad. "He's gotta wife, _an_' my girlfriend? Fuckin' shit..."

"Hey." Roy poked him in the arm. "He did you a favor, in the long run. You can do a hell of a lot better than her. Imagine if you'd _married_ that."

But Ed wasn't looking at him. Face hidden behind a tangle of long, loose hair, he sighed tremulously. "Wish I wasn't such a fuck up," he said in mournful tones. "Wish I wasn't some kind of freak. Fuck up everything I touch, I fucked up my mom, an' Al, an' Nina..." A torrent of names followed, and never had Roy realized just how dreadfully much guilt Ed assumed, carrying it around as though he'd earned it. As he listened to the list, past girlfriend's names mixed in with friends and family that Ed felt he'd hurt, something panged in his heart that a person as enormously talented and intelligent and _good_ as Ed could think of himself as a failure.

"You're _not_ a freak," he said emphatically, nudging Ed with his shoulder. "And I don't believe any of those people would say that about you. I _know_ Alphonse wouldn't."

He could feel the smile against his arm, even if he couldn't see it. "Al. I miss him. Why's he gotta live in Riesembul now anyway, 's too far..." He shifted, metal elbow digging into Roy's ribs, and his voice quavered again. "'Course he's got Winry now, even my li'l brother's got more luck with women than a freak like me."

"I told you, you're _not_ a freak. And I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that."

Ed gave a melancholy laugh. "Yeah, 's against the rules. But I'm good at breakin' rules, aren't I? Good at breakin' _everything_."

"Ed. Stop it." The scotch was making his senses hazy, his reason blurred. But he couldn't stand hearing this; these were _lies_, and if Ed kept repeating them he'd soon start believing his own bullshit. "You _saved_ me."

Slowly, Ed lifted his head, gazing up at Roy with eyes bright with alcohol. "Had to," he said in a thin voice. "Couldn't fuck up again. Couldn't let you die. Not that stupid."

"Not stupid at all," Roy countered, but Ed went on as if he hadn't heard.

"She always tol' me I was stupid, that I couldn't see what was under my nose, an' I guess she was right, didn't see what _she_was doin', after all. An' now she's gone, an' I'm _still_ stupid, got nothin' but shit luck and fuck, who's gonna wanna be with someone like that?"

He was half-turned, one hand fisted in Roy's shirt to keep his balance, his face creased in an expression of pain. "It's fucked up that I still want her, Roy, it's stupid, an' _I'm_ stupid, I'm such a _freak_, I dunno what's _wrong_ with me-"

There was no volition to his reaction, the liquor was buzzing in his brain and it wasn't until he felt the chapped roughness of Ed's mouth against his own that Roy even realized what he'd done. It was a chaste kiss, a mere brushing of lips that lasted only a few seconds, and afterwards Roy drew back, gritting his teeth and waiting for the explosion, and wondering just what in the _hell_ had come over him.

But Ed only stared at him with wide, thoughtful eyes, as though he'd figured out a piece to some confounding puzzle. "Huh," he said finally, and let his head drop back against Roy's shoulder.

* * *

Pain woke him, a burning, throbbing sensation in his abdomen as his damaged liver struggled to metabolize the glut of alcohol in his system. Despite the medicine he'd taken the night before, for a moment all Roy wanted was to curl up and pray for it to subside. But after a minute or two of breathing shakily into the sofa cushions he forced himself to move, to prop himself up and reach for the medicine bottle once more. Popping the cap, he swallowed down two tablets dry before flopping back and waiting for them to take effect.

Ed had fallen asleep practically on top of him last night, although there was no sign of him now. Which was fine; Roy wasn't at all certain he could handle the pain in his gut and physical contact at the same time. And after what had happened, he wasn't entirely sure what to think anyway.

He shook his head, and immediately regretted it as his body reminded him of exactly what a hangover felt like. Unfair, to have to deal with that on top of the screaming of his liver, and the aching stiffness in his neck from sleeping in a strange position. Ed had warned him against drinking...

Once again, he shut down the thought. Not yet. He'd address that later, when he could think without it hurting. Maybe Ed wouldn't remember anyway; that would solve so many problems. After all, it wasn't as though he'd been coming on to Ed. It had been practically a reflex action, trying to soothe the despair in Ed's eyes; he hadn't _thought_ about it, for god's sake. It wasn't planned, it wasn't even _considered_. Roy Mustang was a ladies' man, and always had been; he loved woman, he was currently dating a perfectly lovely woman-

Oh shit. Sophie.

Roy groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He should call her, give her something more than the hurried explanation he'd offered last night. Once he could stand he'd do that, maybe try to set up a time to see her later, after he'd made sure that Ed was going to be okay.

Damn it, why did his mind keep going back to Ed?

After a while the searing pain below his stomach started to ebb, leaving him with nothing more than a mundane pounding in his temples and a myriad of aches throughout his body. Deciding that this was probably the best he could hope for, Roy finally heaved himself to his feet and stumbled toward the kitchen. As he did, he became aware of the smell of brewed coffee, and his pace picked up in a conditioned response to the stimulant. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he first saw his coffee cup, sitting next to the still-steaming percolator and as he heaved a happy sigh, he became aware of Ed sitting at the table, hunched over a mug of his own.

The young man looked bleary and disheveled, but still in decidedly better shape than Roy himself. Coffee mug cupped between his palms, hair hanging in a loose golden waterfall around his bare shoulders, he grunted a greeting to Roy, who responded in kind before beelining the pot. Only after he'd poured himself a cup and taken several rejuvenating sips did he allow himself to sink into the chair opposite Ed, nodding silent thanks to his housemate for the brew.

"There's some oatmeal on the stove," Ed rasped, his own hangover evident in the roughness of his voice. "Made it when I heard you stirring. Should still be warm."

Roy took another drink of coffee, closing his eyes and feeling the steam wash over his cheeks. "Thank you," he replied.

"It's plain. But I set out the cream and brown sugar, know you like that shit in it."

Roy _hmm_ed in reply, still basking in the warmth of the mug.

"I'm not gay."

Roy's eyes snapped open. Across the table, Ed was staring at him with serene, bloodshot eyes, and every rational thought in Roy's head suddenly went careening out of control. He scrambled desperately for some kind of response, anything that made sense, but found himself wordless and horrified.

Ed calmly took another sip of his coffee, giving Roy more time to flounder within his mind before continuing. "I know you're not either. And I've been thinking about what happened, and you know, I get it. That kiss..."

"Ed, I-" Roy sputtered, but the young man waved him off.

"It's okay. I get it." Golden eyes regarded him with remarkable equanimity. "You were just trying to help. I mean, I'm not into guys like that, but... I was feeling pretty shitty and low and... Fuck, I don't know. I'm not mad or anything. I just don't want things to be weird between us."

Somewhere in the middle of Ed's speech, Roy's brain had decided to kick back into gear, and he spoke up quickly. "I didn't mean to do that. I mean... I hated seeing you so depressed, and when you looked at me... it just... happened," he finished lamely, wondering where all his glib words had wandered off to that morning, the one time he really needed them.

"It's okay," Ed repeated. "Like I said, I'm not pissed off about it. I mean, sure, if it had been some other guy, I'd have slugged him, but..." he stopped, looking somewhat startled at what he'd just said and ducked his head. "Fuck, this is gonna make me sound like a real freak now," he muttered, and Roy didn't like the sound of that any better sober than he had drunk.

"You're _not_ a freak," he stated, "and you need to stop saying you are."

An uncomfortable shrug. "Maybe I am, though. 'Cause that kiss... in a weird kinda way, it wasn't bad. I mean, it doesn't have to be a sex thing, right? Kissing is just... it feels good."

"Kissing _is_ good," Roy said slowly, a little confused as to exactly what he was agreeing with.

"Right. So we're not weird just 'cause we kissed. Nothing wrong with that."

"No, it's not wrong." Somewhere along the line, things had taken a decidedly strange turn. Roy had to wonder if he wasn't still a little drunk after all, because surely this conversation wasn't _really_ taking place.

"Okay." The chairlegs scraped as Ed pushed himself away from the table. "So we're cool then?"

"Yes...?"

Ed nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Eat your breakfast before it gets lumpy. And you oughta shower, too, you look like shit." He was gone before Roy could reply; the Colonel's brain having had all it could take, and once again deciding that switching off was the best policy.

_What just happened?_

* * *

"How's your friend doing?"

"Better." Roy smiled at the lady across from him, receiving a smile of his own in return. "Edward has a tendency to hold everything inside, and to blame himself for the most ridiculous things. It was good for him to let it out a bit."

Sophie shook her head. "Poor fellow. I feel so badly for him."

He took her hand, delighted when the gesture produced a faint blush on her cheeks as her fingers tightened around his. "Don't, my dear. It was certainly unfortunate, and less than he deserved, but don't ever make the mistake of feeling sorry for Edward. He's no one's victim."

A waiter came to remove their empty dishes, and the two of them waited for him to leave before continuing the conversation. "He's got a good friend looking out for him," Sophie commented, her smile growing. "I suppose I can't begrudge him your time last night." She gave him a saucy wink, surprising Roy anew with her mischievous boldness. "Although I'm a little bit jealous..." Another quick wink, to assure him she was joking.

Roy was smitten.

"You've no need to be," he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips before adding in a low voice, "And I'm with you tonight."

Her large brown eyes twinkled, the soft smile parting her lips so very different from the ones that had come before. "Which makes me a very lucky woman, Roy Mustang."

* * *

Ed called out a hello as Roy shut the door behind him, his voice echoing out from the living room where he was undoubtedly ensconced on the sofa. Roy hung his coat, taking his time with the small task while replaying the evening in his mind before finally ambling in to greet his housemate, and trying hard not to look too pleased.

"Did you have a good- shit, look at you." Ed cocked a knowing eyebrow at Roy and gave a shark-like grin. "Yeah, you had a good time. Guess she wasn't too upset about yesterday."

"Not in the least." Roy shoved Ed's legs out of the way, and although the younger man made a token struggle, he quickly made room for the other to sit. "In fact," he remarked with a smirk, "I think the compassionate response to a friend's plight actually worked in my favor."

Ed rolled his eyes. "So glad my fucked up relationship is gonna help you score, asshole," he snorted, punching Roy in the hip.

Roy jabbed him back in the shoulder. The _wrong_ shoulder; he winced as his fist struck steel, and Ed cackled wickedly at him while he hissed in pain, shaking his stinging hand. "Evil brat," he mock-growled. "As if I needed the help."

"Newspaper. Folding socks," Ed reminded him with a decidedly devilish glint in his eyes. But he relented, chuckling lightly and remarking with only a little bitterness, "Well, at least _someone_ around here will be seeing a little action."

The ache in Ed's words chased the smile from Roy's face. "Ed-" he began, only for the other man to cut him off.

"Don't. I'm fine. I mean, yeah, it sucks, but I don't want someone who's gonna treat me like that." He gave a wistful sigh, his gaze drifting from Roy's face to focus on something out of sight. "Still miss her- well, miss the good times, at least. It wasn't all shit. I just wish..."

"You'll find someone," Roy said quietly. "Some young lady who'll realize how lucky she is to have caught your eye."

A reluctant smile curled at the corner of Ed's mouth. "Yeah. Hope so."

They sat quietly for a while, Ed lost in his thoughts, while Roy wandered through his own memories of the evening. It had been a good night. Dinner with Sophie, a walk through Central Plaza and down to the riverside, listening to the street musicians and watching as the ferries passed, strung with winking lights like captive fireflies. He let his eyes sag shut, tired but happy, and imagined Sophie again, the sweetness of her smile, the way she fit against his side as they walked...

He must have dozed off, because his pleasant dreams of Sophie melted into the reality of a warm mouth over his, lips caressing in a way that made his skin tingle. Still caught in sleepy illusions, Roy reached up to cup one hand around the curve of a jawbone, running his thumb tenderly along the warm swell of a cheek. So nice...

His eyelids fluttered open, but it was not the expected tangle of dark curls that filled his vision, but rather a haze of gold and with that, the illusion burst into full awakening. His living room, his own hand cradling Ed's face as the young man regarded him through drowsy, contemplative eyes, and for the second time that day his mind flailed, without traction. Only the arm of the sofa, pressed hard against his spine, prevented him from scrambling backwards in shocked confusion.

"Huh," Ed murmured, just as he had the previous night. His face had taken a sharply considering cast, although his eyes were still unfocused, and the tip of his tongue darted out to trace his lips. Roy's eyes followed the motion and then, realizing his hand was still curved against Edward's cheek, pulled it back as though it had been scalded, heart racing. Ed didn't seem to notice.

"Still kinda nice," he finally concluded, "even when m'not drunk. Huh. Weird."

Weird didn't even _begin_ to describe... "Edward, what-"

Golden eyes shifted to his, soft and sleepy. "I like kissing. And you said it wasn't weird that we did it."

He was never drinking again, never, _never_. "But... that was... last night..."

A ball of heat in his stomach, soft lips dragging with tantalizing allure across his own; even now, in the full awareness of what had happened, and with whom, Roy's mind was muddled with confused longings. Good, yes, but this was _Ed_, not Sophie...

"Last night you kissed me. So tonight, I kissed you. S'equivalent, right?" Ed made it sound so simple and logical when he said it like that, but Roy wasn't quite wrapping his brain around it at all.

Was this about _equivalence_? "I suppose so, but... Ed, I thought we decided we both like _women_."

"Yeah. Women are great." A slow smile stretched across Ed's face. "But I really _like_ kissing. And it's not weird, right? It just feels good, so what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, theoretically..."

"Then what's the problem?" Ed could be so infuriatingly direct at times, and at that moment Roy couldn't come up with any rational reason to protest. Kissing _did_ feel good, and it wasn't as though he was worried Ed was going to do anything more than that, and _he_ certainly wasn't...

"Look," Ed said, interrupting his thoughts. "That really wasn't fair. You were barely awake-"

"Wasn't awake at _all_," Roy pointed out, and Ed conceded with a nod.

"Okay, you weren't awake at _all_, so it wasn't a viable experiment."

"Wait." Roy struggled to sit up, as if a simple change of posture would help him comprehend the surreality of the situation any better. "You're saying-"

"Try it again." Ed's expression was serious. "See if it's okay."

For a minute Roy just stared at him, feeling as though the floor had been jerked out from under his feet. "Try it?" he finally managed to repeat.

"Oh for fuck's sake, just kiss me!" Ed glared at him from beneath his bangs. "If it's too weird, if it doesn't feel good, we don't ever do it again and no harm done. Right?"

So easy, when he put it that way. As though there were nothing at all strange about his proposal that two completely straight men kiss. Each other.

But then again, it really _could_ be that easy. One kiss. Just one, and while Roy was fairly certain it would be one of the most embarrassing moments of his life, it would be over quickly, and they could pretend it never happened. One kiss, to resolve Ed's curiosity. It couldn't hurt anything. Just one kiss.

"All right," he agreed, voice shaking a little.

He leaned forward, hesitating slightly when Ed did the same. Their faces were only inches apart; from here he could see flecks of dark amber amid the pure, bright gold of Ed's irises, could discern the faint white line of a scar across the tanned skin of his forehead. This close, he noticed how long Ed's lashes were, the faint crease between his brows that would one day be etched permanently there, the bow-shaped curve of his upper lip. Expectation painted the younger man's features, and with a juddering breath Roy shut his eyes and closed the distance between them.

* * *

"Sir?"

Roy's head flew up from where it rested on his fist, eyes darting about the room in confusion, momentarily disoriented. A blur of blue caught his attention; half-leaning over the desk, a stack of paperwork in her hand, Hawkeye was frowning at him. "You were sleeping again, Colonel."

He blinked, trying to recover some measure of dignity. "I wasn't asleep. I was thinking."

The Lieutenant gave him a long-suffering look. "General Lomas would like your comments on the joint maneuvers by three o'clock," she told him. "And Sergeant Fuery has been waiting all morning for you to hear his proposal."

"Ah." Rubbing his forehead, Roy tried to block out the headache that had plagued him all morning. "I'm afraid the paperwork for the General will take precedence today. Please let Kain know that I'll make time for him tomorrow morning, before the office meeting."

Riza pursed her lips in disapproval. "If you'd begun work promptly, you would have had time for him today, sir," she said, too blandly for it to be insubordinate, but a rebuke nonetheless. His temples throbbed.

"Thank you," he growled. "Dismissed."

He kept his eyes on the paperwork she'd left, listening to her steady stride as she moved away. The precise footsteps paused as the door was opened, and then to his surprise she spoke up again. "You had a call while you were in your meeting with Colonel Downs and Colonel Edgewood. The message is beside your phone."

The door clicked quietly shut, and Roy glanced over at the message pad. Sophie's name and telephone number were written there in the Lieutenant's neat script, and he couldn't understand the frisson that went down his spine as he stared at it.

* * *

There is nothing in the press of lips to define gender. Eyes closed, sightless, kissing Ed was no different than kissing a woman; warmth and gentle intimacy. Neither one of them opened their mouths to the other, exploring with lips alone, but the cautious caress could hardly have been called boring. If it had none of the rowdy exuberance he'd expected of Ed, it was still far from passionless. It reminded Roy of his first kiss, years back, before he had gained the confidence and skill he now claimed; it was as though he were new to the motions, learning them again, feeling the tremble of attraction for the first time.

But he wasn't attracted to men. He'd never been, wasn't now.

And yet, as he drew his head back, as he opened his eyes and saw Ed regarding him with flushed cheeks and lips darkened by their recent embrace, when Ed cocked his head to the side, eyes flashing overbright in the lamplight, and asked, "Was it okay?" the lie withered and died on his tongue.

* * *

"Are you all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course." A quick grin, the charming one that never failed him, sprang to his lips, and Roy added a quick squeeze to the hand he held for good measure. Sophie smiled back at him, her fingers tightening on his.

"You've been somewhere else tonight," she told him, still smiling, but with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Has work been difficult lately?" Before he could reply, she tapped her lips, looking amused. "Ah, no, don't answer that. Whatever it is, I shouldn't make you think about it more. Maybe a little distraction is in order." She stood, brushing her skirts straight before pulling him after her.

He followed, eyes on her graceful figure. "And where are you taking me?" he asked with a teasing lilt that he hoped would hide his distraction. "Nowhere that would besmirch your reputation, I sincerely hope."

Her answering grin was sly. "Why then, you're an unusual specimen." Black curls bounced, and she laughed merrily. He was coming to love that laugh, and the way it made her eyes sparkle. "I'm only taking you to the dance floor, so you can lay your worries to rest. My reputation is safe enough there, and I'll bet that whatever is on your mind can't keep up with a good foxtrot."

Roy chuckled, dragging her to a stop and bowing over her wrist. "My lady, I place myself in your hands," he told her, honest affection in his words. "Do lead the way."

She did, and he followed her, trying hard to keep his mind in the present and on her, instead of mired once more in confused preoccupation.

* * *

"Well?"

Impatient, maybe a little nervous now. The heat in Ed's cheeks was cooling, but his eyes were as intense as ever, gleaming beneath the riot of gold hair spilling around his face. And maybe it was the strangeness of the night, maybe it was the utterly bizarre moment, the two of them sitting on his sofa as they did every night and yet it was like no other night, not having just kissed one another, and them both cold sober. It was like nothing Roy could have ever imagined, much less experienced, and it went against every social more he'd grown up with-

"Roy?"

-but this was Edward, _Ed_, who'd offered up a piece of own life for him; for _him_, for his worthless self, and even if he hadn't, Roy could never lie to him. Never.

Deep breath. "Yes. It was nice."


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Two**

~*~**~*~

The late afternoon light filtered through the clouds with a muted, amber glow, warming the streets and buildings despite the chill gathering on the breeze. Winter hadn't quite loosed its hold on Central, but the air was rich with the promise of spring, and Roy took a moment to breathe it in, savoring the subtle shift from the cold that had enveloped the city for months.

He'd found himself doing this more often, since his injury. Taking notice of the little things he'd once passed by, like so many of Central's other citizens, things he'd been to busy to recognize and enjoy. But when his life had nearly ended, and been handed back to him like a gift at a dear cost to a friend, Roy had resolved to start appreciating it more. And days like these, walking along the mellowing streets instead of driving through them, unseeing, were one of the small ways he'd followed through on that resolution.

He was especially mindful of his reasons to be thankful today. His doctor had today pronounced his health to be as good as it could be considering the enormous damage he'd suffered at the chimera's tusks, and he planned to celebrate it with an evening of dancing with a lovely lady, of whom he was growing increasingly fond. And of course, he was looking forward to sharing the good news with Edward as well. Even more than Sophie, Ed would understand the enormity of this assessment, having cared for Roy through the difficult and painful recovery.

Graying shadows were lengthening and his breath was forming little white puffs in the air when he finally arrived home, glad to be out of the gathering cold of evening. Roy slid his boots off in the hallway and from somewhere near the kitchen, Ed called out a distracted greeting.

Passing the living room, Roy glanced in and a small journal lying innocently on his desk caught his eye. He paused for a moment just outside the doorway, a flurry of thoughts running through his brain, before he stepped into the room, heading unerringly for the book.

Its leather cover was filmed in a light layer of dust, and one hand swept it clear as Roy studied the journal with a considering gaze. Inside lay that remarkable array, the one Ed had used to save him, the one he'd meant to learn. He'd been neglecting his work with it, spending time with Sophie and in the office, but in light of today's diagnosis he felt a touch of remorse for his lax attitude. Such a small thing, by comparison to what had been done for him. He needed to make more time for it.

"Hey." Turning, Roy saw Ed leaning against the doorframe, hair pulled back into a high ponytail, dripping spatula clutched in a metal fist. "How'd the visit go?"

He couldn't contain his smile. "Wonderfully. Everything has healed well, and so long as I keep minding my medicines and watch the alcohol, he's ready to pronounce me completely recovered."

Ed flashed a brilliant, toothy grin, his eyes gleaming with what looked a bit like pride. "Fuck yeah! That's great news!"

"Yes." His hand lingered on the journal, and Roy silently vowed, _tomorrow, tomorrow for sure_. "I thought I'd call Sophie, take her out to Martingale's and tell her as well."

"Oh. She called earlier. Said her mom's sick, and that she's goin' over to take care of her tonight." Ed's smile faded a little, and he fidgeted with the spatula. "Sorry."

Although he was disappointed, Roy shrugged it off. "It's only one evening. I'll call her tomorrow, make sure everything is alright."

"Ah. Well, you can have dinner with me. I'm makin' some Cretan stir fry, 'Least that's what it's_supposed_ to be, but I don't think it's coming out quite... _shit_!" Eyes widening in alarm, Ed turned and bolted from the room, his hair a banner of gold behind him as he ran for the food he'd left cooking, the distinctive smell of burning meat finally reaching Roy's nose.

* * *

Despite Ed's inattention, the meal wasn't a total loss, and actually quite flavorful if one disregarded the somewhat charred taste of the pork strips. The two men bantered back and forth, baiting one another and generally enjoying the pleasant friction that always sparked between them. Arguing with Ed was, Roy concluded, at least as enjoyable as conversing with most people, and preferable to the majority of those conversations. His wits were never keener than when pitted against Ed's genius; it was almost as though he were able to absorb some of the brilliance that flowed constantly from the young man by mere proximity.

As he lingered over his tea, Ed somewhat haughtily pointed out that since he had cooked, Roy could clean, and dashed from the kitchen leaving his housemate staring in dismay at the mess he'd created. Shaking his head at Ed's unparalleled ability to wreck destruction, Roy pushed back his chair and set to work.

Returning to the living room after the last pan was set in the drainer and the counters were all wiped clear, he found Ed lazing the sofa, spread completely across the cushions, head lolling back on one arm. A fire was crackling merrily in the hearth, and the young man seemed to be soaking up its warmth like a cat, all slitted eyes and lazy sprawl, flame-burnished hair almost glowing. He looked to be half-asleep, and despite their usual sport of sneak attacks and fights for dominance over the piece of furniture, for a moment Roy was loathe to disturb him. Instead he stood in the doorway, watching the steady rise and fall of the broad chest, stretching the black fabric of his shirt tight before loosening once more.

This casual relaxation was something that hadn't been evident in quite a while, not since before Merisel, and it lifted Roy's heart to see Ed so content once again. It was as though a weight had been lifted off of the young man, leaving him vibrant and more alive than ever, the change visible even when he was at rest like this. A small, secretive smile curved Roy's lips; Ed, happy, was transfigured into something glorious, and he felt similarly transformed in his presence.

"Don't stare." Ed didn't open his eyes, but he lolled his head in Roy's general direction. "It's creepy."

"I'm just working out how to get you off that sofa," Roy replied lightly, coming into the room at last. "It would be nice to have a place to sit, for a change."

One eye cracked open, a lambent gold glare fixing upon him. Apparently deciding he wasn't worth the trouble, it slid closed again, and Ed made an amused rumble deep in his chest as he stretched extravagantly, taking up more space than seemed physically possible for such a small person.

Roy snagged him by the ankle, and Ed surged into motion, pulling his leg back in close to his chest and drawing the larger man still holding onto him in as well. Pulled off balance, Roy caught the back of the sofa with his other hand, but Ed was already moving; in seconds, Roy found himself immobilized, arm twisted behind his back, face pressed into the back of the sofa, while Ed snickered over his shoulder, "Whatcha got to say _now_, Colonel Shit?"

With his nose being crushed against the cushions Ed couldn't see his expression, but Roy smirked into the leather anyway. "Made you move."

An amused snort. The pressure on his arm relaxed, allowing Roy to push himself back upright. Ed was sitting up as well now, alert and poised, with a gleam in his eyes that reminded the Colonel that the young man used to spar with a seven foot suit of indefatigable armor for _fun_.

Shaking his head at the exuberance of youth, Roy reached over to the end table, where the newspaper was neatly folded. Despite his disdain of Roy's 'boring' habit, Ed always made sure the paper was there for his nightly reading, a consideration at odds with his rather vocal disparagement. The Colonel shook out the pages, and beside him Ed made an disappointed noise as he realized the roughhousing was over. But once Roy had gotten comfortable and began to read, the young man yawned and leaned against his shoulder, using him for a backrest as he settled once more into somnolence.

The position made it hard to turn the pages, but Roy had become accustomed to Ed's weight limiting the motion of his arm, and wasn't bothered by the inconvenience. He flipped through the pages one-handed, soaking up the articles of politics and local scandal, skimming the editorials before taking his time checking over the leisure section, noting a couple new plays that were opening, and a symphony that looked interesting. Perhaps this weekend...

Eventually he folded the paper in his lap, before laying it aside. As if this were a signal, Ed roused and sat forward, turning to fix Roy with an expectant eye before leaning across the other man's lap and pressing their lips together.

This, too, had become normal.

It wasn't about attraction, Roy reminded himself, cupping a hand at the base of Ed's skull, feeling the cascade of fire-warmed hair in heated trails over his hand. It wasn't about desire, although he couldn't deny the shiver that traced his skin as Ed's teeth skimmed his lips, and their tongues tangled. He imagined it as exercise, practice, something they might put to use elsewhere for more serious pursuits. And in the meantime, as Ed had asserted, it felt very good.

That young man had certainly proven himself to be as full of surprises in this endeavor as he was in all others. The same mouth that produced obscenities that could startle even Roy, career soldier that he was, could also be gentle against his own, surprisingly pliant. Teeth more often seen bared in a feral grin nipped delicately at his lips, teasing so differently from his usual, caustic overtures. And Ed's tongue was as sinfully flexible as the rest of him, curling and taunting as it mapped out every inch of Roy's mouth until he very nearly felt ashamed of the small, involuntary gasps it elicited.

Not to be outdone, Roy put his years of experience to work, reasserting control of the kiss and giving that nimble tongue a quick suck before letting the younger man withdraw it. Ed made an eager, guttural sound at the ploy, responding with more exuberance and less finesse than before, and Roy smiled against the other man's mouth.

Sometimes he felt twinges of guilt, doing these things with Ed. They weren't even remotely a couple despite this strange pastime of theirs, and Sophie was still very dear to him, and his intentions toward her were good. Telling himself that this didn't represent any kind of threat to her, or cheapen his feelings toward her wasn't a very convincing argument when he found himself absorbed in Ed's scent, or giddy from the rush of endorphins when Ed's mouth slid along his in sheer carnal sensation.

Some indefinable impulse let his mouth drift from the other's, biting carefully along the strong line of his jaw, tracking down to the sensitive skin just below his ear and nibbling delicately there until Ed's hands were clamped hard on his shoulders, head thrown back as far as Roy's hold allowed, quivering. But Roy paused, pulling his head back abruptly in surprise. Where had that come from?

They had never progressed beyond mere kissing before...

Ed's chin dropped back to his chest, his breathing ragged as he looked up at Roy through disheveled bangs. His eyes were wild, and a little unfocused, as he gave his unsettled housemate a frankly unabashed grin. "_Fuck_, Roy. Gotta remember that trick!"

Unsure of how to respond, Roy just nodded dumbly, and Ed shook his head, hair a spray of gold as it flew around his shoulders. "Damn. Alright. I'd better go change and get to bed, since some shit's got an office meeting scheduled too fucking early, that every-damn-body is required to attend." He stood, lithe body stretching once more as Roy tried not to watch, and punched the Colonel gently on the shoulder as he strode past. "Don't stay up too late, old man. The Lieutenant isn't gonna let you off the hook if you're late to your own meeting."

And Roy was left in quiet bafflement on his sofa, wondering what on earth had possessed him to do such a thing.

* * *

It wasn't as though Edward had forgone dating. At his age, and with his drive, such a thing would have been ludicrous. No, the young man was far from celibate, though he eschewed any relationship as exclusive and intense as he'd had with Merisel. But he was never at a loss for a date, a woman to dine with, a lady to meet at a bar or dance hall. In the prime of his life and far from hard on the eye, Edward was an irresistible force.

And yet he still sat on Roy's sofa in the evenings, kissing him with all the singleminded focus he applied to everything in his life.

It was clear that the young man had little difficulty reconciling his exploits outside of the house with the activities within. When curiosity overwhelmed him once, and Roy asked about this perspective, Ed gave a short bark of laughter, and replied, "It's not the same thing at all, now is it?"

But for Roy, it was not quite so simple.

When he had begun seeing Sophie, Roy had been all too aware of his past; the casual flings and endless dating, his reputation as a dilettante playboy. The recent collapse of Edward's relationship had been on his mind as well, and he'd made a conscious choice not to follow old habits, but to proceed with more caution and respect. His courtship of her was proper, probably old-fashioned by most standards, but as Sophie was an exceptional lady, she not only seemed to appreciate his slow approach, but also to mirror it. In the months that they'd been together, they had exchanged little more than the chastest of kisses, usually to the cheek or wrist, and Roy had told himself that it was out of respect and genuine affection for the lady, and a desire to for once proceed with the decorum a relationship of this depth deserved.

Now, however, as evenings spent kissing Ed showed no sign of abating, he had to wonder if his reticence with Sophie was out of guilt for his deceit, rather than propriety. Not that he felt the same for Ed as he did for her; with Sophie, Roy was certain he could see a future, and one which would have caused Maes to extol at length over the virtues of wedded bliss. The man would have been ridiculously proud of Roy for even considering the path of marriage, and Sophie would without a doubt have earned his blessing.

He wished that Maes was still here, to give him that lecture. And while he was at it, to possibly explain just what the hell Roy was doing with Edward in the meantime.

* * *

The wind whipped, buffeting against the heavy wool of Roy's greatcoat and setting the Colonel's teeth on edge as he hurried across the parade ground, head bent to the chilly spattering of rain. He hated these early spring showers, although he went through great pains to keep his face empty of the discomfort he was experiencing. Not only for the sake of his subordinate, wheezing slightly as he struggled to keep up with Roy's long strides, or for the fact that they were passing beneath the broad windows of the Fuhrer's offices, but for his own pride. Mere weather wasn't going to get the best of him.

"Damn, sir, can't you slow down a bit?" Breda groused, footsteps squelching heavily through the gathering puddles. "We're gonna be soaked to the bone by the time we get to the warehouses as it is, we don't need to be out of breath as well."

"You should exercise more often," Roy replied without slowing his pace. "A little walk like this shouldn't tire you out, soldier."

Breda snorted. "With all due respect, Chief, shove it up your ass. I do what I do, and I do it damn well. You want a lean dog to follow you around base, fine, but I'd like to see _it_ work out Drachman tactics."

Roy chuckled at the Lieutenant's acerbity. "Just a suggestion, Heymans, just a suggestion. You're sounding almost as touchy as Fullmetal."

The big man at his shoulder only grunted, still breathing heavily. They reached the warehouses, saluting the Private on duty at the door, and were admitted to the cool dimness of the building with relief, veiled on Roy's part, and loudly public on Breda's. As the Colonel sorted through the papers he'd brought for the surprise inspection they were conducting, Breda remarked, "So it seems like this thing between you and the Boss is working out okay."

Papers rustled, and Roy nearly spilled them on the floor. "Oh?" he said in a neutral tone, keeping his face turned downward to hide the surprise at the comment. His cheeks were warming uncomfortably, making him grateful for the uncertain lighting.

Breda made an amused sound. "Yeah. We didn't think you two would last this long, living together, without one of you ending up in the hospital. Havoc had his money on the Boss throttling you in your sleep. But it looks like Fuery's taking the pot home this time."

He'd forgotten about the office bets, and relief washed over Roy in a chilly sheet. Of course Breda didn't mean what he'd thought. Hawkeye excepted, of course, his office was nothing but red-blooded males. There was no way the would assume that he and Edward were playing tonsil hockey every other night, without strong evidence. He cocked his head, lifting an eyebrow at the canny Lieutenant standing beside him. "Where'd you put your bet?"

"Me?" The big man chuckled, belly bouncing. "I'm your loyal supporter, sir. I had my money on you."

Roy gave him a thin smile. "I'm flattered," he replied, dry humor lacing his words. Papers once again in order, he began making his way down the aisles, the stocky Lieutenant at his heels. Of course no one knew. They had no reason to know. After all, it was hardly a normal, unexceptional occurrence. Right?

But it felt that way now. Normal. Natural, even.

And what did that say about him?

* * *

"Ugh..."

Ed drew his head back, scowling at arm's length as Roy made a grotesque face. "_What_? What the fuck's the problem?"

Wishing he could spit, Roy pulled back farther. "Have you taken up smoking, Ed? You taste like Havoc smells!" The heavy, bitter taste clung to his palate, permeating his entire mouth, and Roy resisted the urge to paw at his tongue.

"Oh..." A faint hint of red flushed over his cheeks, and Ed looked pained. "I _did_ see Charlotte before I got home. I just didn't think..."

"Clearly." It was a little difficult to stand, with Ed all but in his lap, but Roy managed and moved for the stairs, still grimacing. "I need to brush my teeth. Or," he added, as he started his ascent, "maybe _you_ do."

"Fuckin' picky-ass bastard," he heard Ed grumbling at his back. But a few minutes later, Roy heard water running in the guest bathroom, and the brisk sounds of scrubbing.

Ed didn't mention Charlotte after that. Nor did his mouth ever taste of cigarettes again.

* * *

The chilly months bloomed into the warmth of full spring. Along the riverbanks the cherry trees were awash in white blooms, while the parks and pathways of Central were vibrant with flowers of all colors vying for the sun. Roy and Sophie attended garden parties and outdoor concerts, dined in courtyard cafes and wandered through museums, appreciating the return of sunlight and bright days as much as they did the artwork.

In the office, Breda and Havoc teased Roy incessantly, noting that he'd been dating the same woman for _months_- which _surely_ heralded the end of the world!- and asking when they should have their dress blues dusted off for the wedding. Hawkeye rolled her eyes at her coworkers' childish behavior, while Falman treated them all to reminiscences about his sister's wedding until Breda threatened to start sharing _his_ love stories, which quieted the office for a little while.

Throughout these months, Edward was everywhere. He took a week of well earned vacation- his first, in all his years as a State Alchemist- to visit Al and Winry in Riesembul, returning with a cheerful disposition and the start of a tan, and stories to be shared that kept Roy up until past midnight. He was home for a mere week before being sent out again on back to back missions in New Optain and Eastern Headquarters, and then only three days after returning, he was off once more, this time to Lior.

In Ed's absence, Roy followed through on the promise he'd made himself. Evenings not passed in Sophie's company were spent poring over lines and symbols, fruitless attempts to commit them to memory and understand the way life's energy was bent and spilled through the circle. He had finally come to the point where, while staring at the intricate lines, he could just about grasp the flow, but with the paper out of sight he might as well been grasping at smoke. His mind simply couldn't, or wouldn't, retain the array in its full complexity.

But soon Ed returned, and the diagram was put away. They talked, and argued, sniped at one another in the office. Traded chores in the house, fought over the sofa in the evenings. They leaned against one another as they read, shared their space without a thought and, with the windows cracked open, warm air and the scent of honeysuckle creeping in, they indulged in their strange occupation, and kissed, kissed...

And then, as the spring melted into the steamy beginnings of summer, Ed met Julia.

* * *

Glancing at the clock on the mantel, Roy noted that, even by his housemate's lax standards, Ed was late. That wasn't unusual in itself, but they'd made loose plans for a game of chess this evening, and the young man was generally good about keeping those. At least, so long as he hadn't become immersed in some new book, but the library had closed an hour ago.

Returning to the kitchen, Roy sat down and picked at the remains of his dinner. Expecting Ed's company, he'd made enough for both of them, but now he supposed he'd need to pack it away in the icebox instead. With Ed this late already, there was no telling when he'd return home, and there was no sense in letting the food spoil on the counter. He sighed, finally pushing his plate away and rising to clean up the remains of the meal. If nothing else, he'd have lunch to take in tomorrow, and possibly the day after that.

It was nearly nine before he heard the front door open, and moments later Ed wandered into the living room, a paper sack gripped in one hand and a soft, bemused expression on his face. Roy laid his paper aside, shifting to give the young man room to sit, and Ed plopped down, that distracted half-smile still firmly intact. The paper bag crunched as he settled it in his lap.

"Did you get lost?" Roy asked, teasing, but only a little, as Ed's eyes were somewhat dazed, and the dreamy smile that spread at the question was definitely out of the ordinary.

"Nah. Might've wandered around a bit, but... What time is it, anyway?"

Roy glanced up at the clock. "Five of nine. Did you lose your pocketwatch as well?"

"What?" Ed glanced down at his hip, as if for confirmation before shaking his head. "No, just got a little distracted. Didn't realize it was so late."

"Seems like more than just a little distraction." Frowning slightly at the odd look on Ed's face, Roy wondered if he ought to be concerned. "Is everything alright?" he asked in a gentler tone.

"Yeah. Oh yeah. Everything's fine." Ed nodded at Roy with a broad smile, warm, and a bit awestruck as well. "Everything's _great_." He offered nothing more, just continued smiling to himself, fingers flexing on the top of the bag in his lap.

Looking at Ed, who was clearly lost in some blissful thought, Roy could only blink in surprise. At a loss for anything else to say, he asked, "Are you hungry? There are some leftovers from dinner in the icebox. It wouldn't take any time to warm them up."

"Not hungry."

Roy's brows drew together with alarming speed. Ed was _never_ not hungry, not in all the time he'd known him. But then... he'd been late, and he _was_ carrying that bag. Perhaps he had eaten out?

That smile was starting to unnerve him. "What's in the bag?" Roy asked, unable to restrain his curiosity.

If anything, the happiness on Ed's face increased. "Onion rolls," he said, and the grin widened into something blinding. Bright gold eyes turned his way, catching Roy off guard with their brilliance. "Julia gave them to me."

He clutched the bag covetously on his lap, cradling it as though it was far more valuable than a plain bakery sack. And Roy suddenly realized what this was, this soft light in Edward's face, this fragile joy suffusing his smile. His breath caught in his throat as he looked upon the gentle stirrings of love in Ed's eyes, and Roy felt his chest constrict. Not again, not like last time, with Merisel, when Ed had been so hurt and diminished... But he couldn't let himself think like that.

"Well. It looks as though congratulations are in order." He offered his own smile, which was returned with interest. A faint flush rose in Ed's cheeks, and he fumbled with the bag.

"S'not like anything's happened," he mumbled. "Not yet, she's only agreed to let me buy her dinner tomorrow. She's... she's not like other girls." He looked almost embarrassed, and yet so hopeful. "She's really shy, but... _fuck_, Roy, she's the sweetest person I think I've ever met."

"She sounds lovely," Roy told him, and he nodded enthusiastically.

"She is, you gotta meet her. You'll love her." As if hearing what he'd said, Ed shot Roy a look. "Not like _that_, I mean..."

Roy laughed outright at Ed's overprotective reaction. "Of course not. And there's always Sophie."

The defensive look faded, and Ed grinned, still fingering the paper. "We're both lucky."

"Yes, we are," Roy agreed, but somehow it didn't feel that way. It seemed as though something had already changed, and with a start he realized- the sofa, their evenings. The odd arrangement they had, which had become so comfortable and pleasant; somewhere along the line he'd relaxed enough to enjoy it a great deal. But now, with this new girl, Ed was sure to be preoccupied, uninterested in what he'd begun. Though really, Roy thought, he still had Sophie, whom he cared about a great deal; he ought not miss these things...

But it wasn't the same...

"Hey. What are you doin'?" Ed's eyes widened as he peered up at him, although Roy didn't recall getting to his feet.

"I just..." Fumbling for words, because he hadn't any idea where this was going. But Roy was spared the prevarication, as Ed set the bag aside and grabbed his arm, pulling the older man back down beside him. And before he quite understood what was happening, Ed had one arm latched firmly around Roy's neck, and was kissing him with urgency, teeth clashing, tongue winding desperately with his own. It was somewhat overwhelming, and Roy had a moment of fleeting wonder, whether Ed might be using him to play out some fantasy of Julia, but the thought didn't,_couldn't_ last beneath the onslaught. When Ed finally released him, all he could do was stare, panting, into those wild gold eyes.

"Thought you liked this," Ed said, voice a little ragged. "You don't wanna stop, do you?"

Head spinning, Roy heard himself say, "Not particularly. But this girl-"

"Doesn't change anything," Ed interrupted impatiently. "That's different."

"I don't understand..."

"Don't get weird about this." An open mouthed kiss, teeth tugging at his lower lip. Hands, warm and cool, framing his face, brushing the bangs back from his forehead, hot breath husking over his ear in an aching whisper. "This is just us."

Just the two of them, and Ed was right; it was comfortable, it felt good, it was theirs, and he didn't want to stop. Just the two of them, and Roy relented, let go, allowed himself to succumb once more to this strange seduction.

* * *

Absorbed in a finance report, it took Roy a moment to notice that Hawkeye was standing in the doorway, waiting for his attention. A glance at the clock confirmed that it was nearly half an hour past when he should have left, although he should have realized it from the silence beyond his door. Pushing the paper aside and rubbing his eyes he gave her a weary smile, appreciating not for the first time her unspoken concern.

She stared back, the barest hint of a indulgent smile reaching her lips. "You've done enough today, sir. It's time to go home."

Roy sighed, leaning back in his chair until it creaked in protest. "You go ahead, Lieutenant," he told her. "I just want to finish this up, and then I'll be on my way."

Mischief crinkled the corners of her eyes as she tilted her head toward the door. "I think Edward is getting tired of waiting for you," she informed him, and Roy sat forward quickly.

"Edward? I didn't even know he was here."

She rolled her eyes, giving the suggestion that he was trying her patience, although Roy knew very well that she was probably amused by his reaction. "I informed you when he arrived, sir. That was almost an hour ago."

"Almost- _damn_, I forgot." He frowned accusingly down at his paperwork. "I'm surprised he didn't kick my door in."

"I convinced him to wait outside," Hawkeye replied in a dry tone, and Roy could well imagine her methods of persuasion. Chuckling, he laid his pen aside.

"Well, I suppose I'm done after all then." He stood, back stiff and aching from the unnoticed hours he'd spent working at the desk, and followed her into the outer office, courteously waiting as she gathered her own belongings. They walked out together through the empty hallways in companionable silence for a few minutes before she turned to him with that small smile once again.

"If you don't mind my saying, sir," she said, "I think that inviting Edward to live with you was one of the better choices you've made."

He raised an eyebrow, not slowing his stride. "Oh? How's that?"

Hawkeye's smile broadened, growing fond. "He seems much more settled, since he moved in. Calmer."

A short laugh slipped out before he could stop it. "Calling Edward 'calm' is an oxymoron, Lieutenant."

Cutting her eyes his way, Riza shook her head. "You know what I mean, sir. He was never very comfortable living on his own. Nor," she added with another sly glance, "were you."

Roy missed a step. "Me? I was perfectly happy, living by myself."

Rounding the corner into the main hall, she gave him a look that was clearly skeptical. "Don't be ridiculous, sir," she murmured, nodding a greeting to the guard at the door. "I've known you too long to believe that."

Stung, Roy insisted, "I was!" as he held the door for her, but it only earned him another disbelieving stare.

"If you say so," she replied in a tone that suggested, rather pointedly, that he was full of shit. Glancing at something over his shoulder, she gave him a brief smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, sir," she told him, and turned away before he could argue further.

"Hey! Bastard! What the hell took you so long?"

Roy turned around to see Ed sauntering toward him with a scowl on his face that wasn't so much annoyed as it was anxious. The familiar smirk slid into place, and Roy straightened just enough to be able to look down his nose at the smaller man. "I was working, Fullmetal, something most people have to do to keep a roof over their heads, and food on the table..."

Drawing level with him, Ed punched the Colonel in the arm- and not gently, either. Roy hid the wince as bright, angry eyes glared at him. "Shut _up_, fuck, you do love to hear yourself talk, don't you? You're _late_, just come on..."

He pushed past Roy, deliberately shouldering him in the process, and headed off across the square. Resisting the urge to rub his bicep- there was going to be an ugly bruise there, later- Roy matched the quick pace Ed set, following him out into the city streets.

* * *

"Just around the corner," Ed told him, petulance giving way to an unrestrained smile. He looked up at Roy, his grin widening with excitement. "I can't wait for you to meet her."

Neither could Roy, although for reasons other than Ed's. Although months in the past, the debacle with Merisel was still fresh in his mind, and he wasn't about to see any other person do that to Ed again. If he got any sense at all that this girl was playing with his friend, he was prepared to do everything in his considerable power to bring Ed to his senses before he got hurt. No one would use Edward ever again, so long as he had any say in the matter.

But he had to admit, this Ed that all but bounded eagerly along beside him bore no resemblance to the tense, unhappy man Roy had watched him turn into months ago. The closer they drew to their destination, the more he smiled, and his steps had a bounce to them that hadn't been present when they started. Hair pulled back into a long tail down his back, Ed hadn't bothered with his usual jacket today, although he was wearing his favorite black tank, leaving his arms exposed to the warm summer air. The young man, nearly glowing with happiness, swung his arms freely and careless of the occasional curious stares that were directed his way, and that casual unconcern for his automail spoke to a degree of comfort that Roy could find no fault in.

The bakery where Julia worked was a tidy little building, nestled between a bookstore and an apothecary; a perfect trifecta for Edward. Tiny bells over the door rang cheerily as they walked into the shop, a delicious aroma wafting from the ovens in the back and from the many racks of bread, rolls and pastries that lined the walls. Behind the counter, handling an broad tray of scones with dexterous ease, was a young woman, her long, pale hair tied back with a satin ribbon. In a tender voice Roy had only heard directed at Elysia, and occasionally Al, Ed said quietly, "Hi, Julia."

She was a tiny thing, Roy thought, as she turned to greet them, a smile curving her lips for Ed before fading when she looked past the young man to meet his gaze. Timid to the point of seeming fearful, she spoke to him when Ed introduced them, but Roy only caught a few of the softly voiced words she directed his way. Hands clenched in her apron, Julia unconsciously moved closer to Ed, as if trying to hide behind him.

Ed leaned on one elbow at the glass counter, chatting comfortably with the girl who responded to the young alchemist with a little more confidence. To Roy's surprise, Ed acted the perfect gentleman for her, and she was far more at ease with him, smiling at his quips and blushing prettily when he complimented her dress. After a few minutes with Ed talking and carrying the brunt of the conversation, she finally warmed up a little to Roy as well, smiling shyly as he tried to charm her, though still obviously wary.

It seemed odd to Roy, that Ed would be so taken with a woman this delicate and cautious. He had a history with strong women- his mechanic was nearly as formidable as Riza, as was Pinako Rockbell, who'd raised the boys after their mother died, and Roy had heard plenty of tales about Ed's sensei. A personality as forceful as Ed's required another to balance it, or so he'd thought. And watching the two of them, now talking quietly to one another over the counter, Roy wondered. But when he saw Julia slip her hand into Ed's hand- his _metal_ hand- without so much as hesitating, he understood.


	5. Chapter 5

Julia was indeed not like the other girls Ed had dated. Although he saw her as often as he could, there were no late evenings, nor did Ed ever spend the night with her. He brought her flowers, shared candyfloss with her in the park, and generally courted her with as much restraint and chivalry as Roy had ever seen. Julia's innocence reached out to everything around her, transforming even Ed's cautious idealism into a a pure projection of undiscriminating goodwill. She brought out the best in Ed, and he blazed with life until Roy could scarcely look at him.

As happy as he was for his housemate- and he _was_ happy- Roy felt left behind. The joy in Ed's life seemed only to reflect a certain lack in his own, though he had no idea what might be missing, nor how to replace it. Pastimes that had once given him comfort now left him impatient, his attention wandered, and his temper at the office began to fray.

He did find some relief with Sophie. Sensing the recent shift in his mood, she went out of her way to find lighthearted amusements for them to enjoy, and was more than once a sympathetic ear when he finally had to admit to her his unfocused discontent. Instead of taking offense at a slight he wasn't intending, as so many ladies in his past might have, Sophie just cocked her head to one side and looked at him with her dark eyes, love and concern filling her gaze. "Well," she said at last, "I suppose we'll just have to see what can be done to make things better."

It was the utter, selfless kindness in her reply that undid him. Here he had a woman of rare wit and empathy who adored him, and what right did he have to want anything more? He should be celebrating his luck, down on his knees thankful for her, for his position, for his damned _life_, which but for the altruism of yet another friend would have been taken from him long ago. This moody moping was ridiculous. Sophie deserved better than that, and damn it, so did he.

She also deserved honesty, and all of his affections. Which meant his evenings on the sofa with Ed had to stop.

It wasn't an easy decision. As odd as it was, kissing Ed was something Roy had come to enjoy very much, but even if it didn't mean anything, it still felt as though he was taking something from the ladies in their lives just through the act. Neither Sophie nor Julia were likely to view it as anything less than a betrayal, and the mere fact that it was something he and Ed kept unspoken was further proof of its illicit nature. For the sake of their longterm happiness, for all four of them, he would stop.

He explained it to Ed that evening, after one last long, guilty kiss. How they were cheating their women, toying with their trust. As he might have expected, Ed disagreed.

"We're not taking anything from them," he insisted. "We're not sleepin' around, and we're not hurting anyone. It's just like practice, right? It just feels good."

"It isn't fair," Roy told him, sticking firm to his conviction despite the taste of Ed still clinging to his lips. "Not to them, not to us. We shouldn't do this."

Ed argued, but Roy wouldn't be budged. "It's not fair," he repeated, over and again until Ed grudgingly agreed to let it go.

"It's stupid," he growled, arms crossed over his chest, one heel kicking irritably at the sofa leg. "It's a totally different thing. But if that's what you want, fine. Whatever." He huffed out a sigh, sat in silence for a long minute before glancing back at Roy through his long bangs. There was an uncertain light in his eyes, and he bit his lip before asking, "No hard feelings, right?"

It took everything Roy had not to cup Ed's face in his hands, smooth out that worry, but if he touched him his resolve would break. "Of course not," he said quietly. "Ed, it's not that I didn't like it. It's just... we can't... I can't do it. Not while there's Sophie, and Julia. It's _not_ just us. We can't be that selfish."

Some of the concern in Ed's face faded. "I'm not tryin' to hurt anyone."

Roy nodded. "I know that. But even if they never knew, this still hurts them."

"That doesn't even make sense," Ed growled. He made to reach for Roy, stopped himself, and grumbled something under his breath. "I'm going to bed," he muttered. "This is stupid."

Roy caught his hand as he passed. "Ed. Please don't be angry."

Ed stood still, not looking at him. "I'm not angry. Just frustrated, and think you're wrong." He lifted his head, flashed Roy a wan grin. "Nothing new, really."

Roy smiled back. "Nothing new indeed. But this is right. We'll be better for doing it."

"_Not_ doing it," Ed corrected, then shrugged. "Tired of arguing about it. If it makes you feel better... whatever." He pulled his hand gently from Roy's grasp and left the room with slow steps, not stomping or swearing as he usually would. Left alone in the living room, Roy leaned back on the sofa, tilted his head to the ceiling, and hoped that doing the right thing would soon feel better than this.

* * *

He met Sophie at their favorite cafe for lunch, relieved that for once the sight of her wasn't shadowed with guilt. Afterwards, they meandered down the bustling streets, filled with pedestrians out enjoying the mild Saturday afternoon. Sophie's hand was tucked in the crook of his elbow, and every now and again she would pull him to a halt, to gaze into store windows and comment on the merchandise.

Stopped in front of a boutique while Sophie oohed over a caramel colored dress on display, a case in the window of the shop next door caught Roy's eye. He stepped closer, his gaze flitting over the jewelry displayed there, pendants and rings set with stones of all colors. And there, in the center of the case...

"What is it, Roy?" Warmth at his shoulder, and he turned to see Sophie looking up at him with a coquettish grin. "Did you want to go in?"

Her eyes followed his back to the case while he quickly excused his interest, though his eyes lingered on the rings. Beneath a heavy-banded ring set with a rounded dome of topaz was a delicately wrought ladies band of white gold, surmounted by a pale pink diamond, and even as he turned away he could feel the weight of her eyes upon him, considering.

She said nothing, but he could sense that her thoughts were racing as she steered them over to a vendor selling flavored ices. He bought a peach one for her, declining a treat for himself, and as they resumed their walk, she casually asked, "How is your friend doing?"

"Ed?" Roy glanced down at her, before moving over to an old woman selling flowers. "He's fine. Has a girlfriend he's completely besotted with, actually. And I think she's very good for him." He selected a single white blossom and paid for it, before turning to Sophie and tucking it into the dark curls framing her face. She smiled, leaning into his touch, and he caressed her cheek tenderly before withdrawing his hand.

"I'm so glad to hear it," she said, and after a few more steps added, "I was thinking..."

"Yes, my dear?"

She leaned her head upon his shoulder, careful not to crush the flower in her hair. "You speak so highly of him, and yet we've never met. We should invite him and his lady friend to dinner with us. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

Roy's steps faltered, but he recovered quick enough that Sophie didn't notice. "Ed isn't exactly dinner party material," he told her with a wry smirk. "He eats like a starving man, and his manners are atrocious."

She laughed gaily, tugging at his arm. "But he's your friend," she said, "and that's all that matters. If you care about him, then I'm sure I'll adore him as well."

Sophie meeting Ed was an inevitability, but one Roy found he didn't want to face just yet. Reaching for excuses, he said, "I think his girlfriend is afraid of me."

"You?" Sophie laughed again. "How could anyone be scared of a kind person like you? That settles it- we should do this. I can meet your friend, and set his lady straight about you. After all," dark eyes cut up to meet his, twinkling, "we're all sure to be good friends for a long tine, aren't we?"

There was something else in her words, but Roy couldn't place it, and he had no recourse but to agree. "Of course," he told her, watching as happiness spilled across her face even as he felt vague trepidation shudder through him.

* * *

"Dinner?"

He had mentioned it to Ed the next morning, over breakfast. The young man paused with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth, his eyes still hazy with sleep. For a moment Roy held out the hope that Ed would nix the idea immediately, but to his discomfort the mismatched shoulders shrugged, and Ed stuffed the eggs in his mouth.

"Sure, why not. I'll mention it to Julia, see what she thinks, an' let you know tonight." He drained the last of his orange juice and stood, stretching, before scratching his stomach just above the waistband of his loose pants. "Havoc coming to pick us up this morning?"

Roy tore his eyes away from Ed's hand. "Lazy. Yes, he is- at least, he's picking _me_ up, and you can come too, if you're dressed and ready in the next..." he glanced at the clock, "ten minutes."

"Mm." Ed stretched again, and Roy dropped his eyes to the table. "I'll be ready in five." He padded off, picking idly at the tangle of hair falling over his shoulders and unaware of his housemate's consternation.

The Colonel spent the rest of the day on edge, snapping at Breda's attempts to joke with him, and drawing irate glances from Hawkeye over his prickly behavior. Sitting through meetings with General Hakuro and members of Intelligence helped the afternoon pass quickly; he generally hated such meetings, but today they kept his mind off the prospective dinner with Ed and Julia. Riding home by himself- Ed had walked to the bakery- Roy found himself wondering exactly why the idea of the four of them together bothered him so, but was unable to come up with any rational reasons. It simply set off alarms in his head that he'd learned to trust, even if they couldn't be explained.

Instead, he prepared and ate dinner in the quiet of the house, hoping that Julia would be terrified of the idea, and turn Ed down flat. But his cautious expectations were shattered when Ed finally came home, flopping down on the sofa and announcing, "Yeah, she's interested. Wanna say Friday night?"

Once again, Roy had no reason not to agree.

* * *

The restaurant they settled on was an elegant establishment in the theater district and when Friday afternoon arrived, Roy went home to change before picking up the ladies. Ed's door was shut as he passed it, snatches of muted, off-tune humming drifting through the door. After some consideration Roy selected a charcoal suit to wear, with antique silver cufflinks for the crisp white shirt, and once he was dressed he combed his hair back instead of letting it fall into its usual tousled elegance. It was too warm for the scarf that generally accompanied the outfit, but he carefully tucked a linen handkerchief into the pocket before studying his reflection in the mirror and, satisfied, making his way downstairs where Ed was waiting.

The young man didn't own a suit, but he had put on new black trousers that appeared to have been pressed, and a silvery gray button-up that was flatteringly tight across his broad chest. Instead of the usual braid, his hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, falling down his back in a torrent of gold, and he wore a black tie that he fiddled with anxiously as Roy came into the living room.

"Very nice," Roy commented, nodding at Ed's attire, and then other man shrugged.

"Feel silly in this thing," Ed grumbled, tugging at the tie once more, and Roy arched an eyebrow at him.

"Allow me," he murmured, reaching over to adjust the knot. A few deft motions, and the tie lay snug and straight. "There. Does that feel better?"

Craning his neck experimentally, Ed grinned. "Yeah. Thanks. And you..." He lifted out a hand to Roy's face, gloved fingers rearranging the slicked bangs into disarray before he could protest, then leaned back to examine his work. "Yeah, that's it. _Now_ you look sharp."

It was on the tip of his tongue to protest that he'd combed his hair like that for a reason, but what came out instead was, "You think so?"

Ed paused, hand still hovering beside his face. An expression Roy couldn't name ghosted across the young man's features, though the golden gaze remained steady on his. Fingers brushed carefully across his cheek, and he nearly started at the gentle touch. "Yeah," Ed said softly. "Looks good."

The tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and Roy wanted to chase it with his mouth. His breath caught, and he forced himself to drag his eyes back up to Ed's, voice somewhat hoarse as he said, "Thank you," and took an unsteady step back. "You look pretty sharp yourself."

* * *

The drive to the restaurant seemed to take forever. The women chatted amiably and Sophie, playing hostess, drew both men in with ease, but for Roy it was as though the air had thickened around him. He felt hypersensitized to everything; the streetlights, Sophie's laugh, Julia's nervous shuffling, the whirr of Ed's automail...

For god's sake, he could _feel_ Ed, sitting right behind him.

The heavy expectation that hung between the two of them back at the house had lingered, and even as Roy met Sophie's eyes and gave her a wink, he couldn't help but be aware of it. It filled the empty spaces in the conversation, subtle, silent, yet refusing to be ignored. He put on a cheerful mask, but by the time they reached the restaurant and he handed the keys off the the valet, Roy was almost ready to risk pain and Ed's fury for a good dram of scotch.

Once seated, it only grew worse. Now that he was no longer driving he was forced to face his company, and across hors d'oeuvres Roy had nothing to hide behind except years of practiced social skills. They were enough to fool Sophie, and to make Julia smile and blush, but after the first glance he stopped meeting Ed's eyes.

Not that that was easy. For the most part Sophie dominated the conversation, drawing Julia out of her shell and peppering Ed with good-spirited teasing and questions. But Roy couldn't sit silent, and there were enough questions directed at both Ed and himself that he was forced to at least pretend that his nerves weren't dancing like water on hot oil. Seated close by his side, Sophie smiled at him with happy eyes and slipped a hand into his under the table; across from them, Ed slid his arm around Julia's waist, and Roy felt as though the walls were closing in.

A waiter came with menus, and Roy gratefully hid behind an exaggerated consideration of his choices. But once the selections were made and the menus whisked away, there was nothing left but his company, and not enough air to fill his lungs. Ed stared at him, worry creasing his brows, and even though he wasn't looking at the younger man, Roy felt it all the same. Sophie tightened her fingers on his, one thumb stroking gently along the top of his thigh, and asked how he and Ed met.

He managed to give some reasonable response without expressing Ed's secrets, but Roy had almost no idea what he said. His heartbeat had picked up an echo, a dull thump pattering after his pulse that was both familiar and utterly alien, and absolutely unnerving.

When their orders arrived, he'd never been so relieved.

The pressure continued to build as they ate until finally, Roy excused himself for a moment, feeling the weight of Ed's stare between his shoulders as he moved away through the crowd. Sidling up to the bar for a quick shot of bourbon felt like losing control, but the alcoholic burn in his throat and the buzz that followed was worth the shame. False confidence, he knew, liquid courage, but he was willing to take what he could get if it meant surviving this night.

As he returned to the table he saw Sophie coming toward him, with Julia in tow. The dark haired woman gave him a peck on the cheek as he paused to meet them. "Just going to powder our noses," she told him with a sly smile, and a wink which hinted that talk was the point, rather than cosmetics or necessity. With a smile, he stood aside to let them pass, and continued making his way to the table, now unoccupied save for Ed.

Without the buffer of the women, Roy expected some kind of verbal assault from Ed and he wasn't disappointed. Before he'd even settled his napkin in his lap once more, Ed was leaning forward, hissing, "What the _hell_, Roy? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, everything's fine." He smiled, reaching out for his glass of water and taking a sip, but something gave him away to Ed's critical eyes, which widened in alarm.

"You were drinking." The words fell quietly, an accusation he couldn't bring himself to deny. His silence was admission enough, and Ed swore under his breath, face creased with worry. "The _fuck _nothing's wrong, you know better than to put that shit in your system. You've been too fucking careful about that to screw it up now, so what's going on?"

Gold eyes, bright with concern, were steady on his, the scrutiny making his breath catch once again, making it hard for him to breathe. One of Ed's hands was stretching across the table as though he wanted to grasp Roy's arm, and the thought of Ed's touch flooded him with panic. He clamped down on it fast, drawing back out of reach and forcing a smile that, while patently fake, was all he could muster.

"One small drink will neither kill nor incapacitate me," he told Ed. "And why shouldn't I celebrate a little? Just like you said, we're both lucky. Lovely ladies at our sides, good friends..."

"Don't fuck around!" The words tumbled out, low, but fraught with tension. "Don't bullshit me, Mustang, I fuckin' know better. Not fooling me for a _second_, and I'm _not_ letting this go until you explain what's goin' on in your head!"

You _explain it to _me_!_ he wanted to shout back in frustration. _Tell me why I can feel your goddamn heartbeat from across the room, when I'm supposed to be falling in love with Sophie. I'm luckier than I deserve to be, to have a woman like her, and I should be thinking about proposing to her, planning a life with her, instead of wondering why I still want to kiss you! Tell _you_? Why should I tell you, can't you fucking _feel _it yourself?_

But he couldn't say that, not here, not _anywhere_ and, sickened with himself, he turned away, waving over a passing waiter and requesting a bottle of bordeaux for the table. Ed sat across the table, white-faced and aghast, and when the server moved off to retrieve the wine, he stared at him with mute betrayal. "Roy..." he whispered, but at that moment the women returned, laughing, and the moment was broken.

That didn't stop Ed from glaring at him, however, or from pointedly refusing to touch his own glass of wine when it arrived. Roy ignored his scowls as best he could, taking small sips of his wine while he listened to one of Sophie's anecdotes with feigned enthusiasm. She had a knack for storytelling that generally drew him in, but tonight concentration was beyond his reach. Thankfully the others were not so distracted; Julia was rapt, and even Ed managed to rouse some interest, although he still shot Roy hard looks from time to time. _Just wait_, that smoldering stare told him. _This isn't over._

He couldn't avoid Ed forever. It would have been impossible, even if they didn't live together. But he could at least try to postpone this confrontation until he understood his own mind, and Roy had every intention of doing just that.

He insisted on covering the bill, actually managing to argue Ed down when he wanted it split. "Don't be ridiculous. Put your wallet away," he said, adding with a smirk, "And don't make me turn it into an order." Julia ducked her head to stifle a laugh, but the smile Ed shot back at him was murderous.

From the corner of his eye, Roy noticed that Sophie was staring at Ed with a thoughtful expression, and his heart froze. She was too perceptive with people, and Ed was an open book. He stood, ostensibly leaving to pay, but it was a cowardly retreat and he knew it. Behind him, he heard Sophie ask, "Edward, what's wrong?"

"Drinking," Edward replied in aggrieved tones. "I don't know. He shouldn't be drinking."

* * *

They dropped Sophie off first, at her sister's house. Roy walked her up to the door, one arm wrapped around her waist, and calmer than he'd been all evening. It was a clear night, the waxing moon and a bright spray of stars overhead lighting it with a chilly glow, frosting Sophie's hair as she dug in her purse for the keys and filling Roy with a peculiar drunken haze that had nothing at all to do with the alcohol he'd imbibed.

Dark eyes glanced up at him, a slow smile following. She was lovely in the moonlight, and Roy's heart kicked sharp in his chest at the sight. He leaned in to whisper goodnight, and kiss the corner of her mouth, but somewhere in the process he instead found himself claiming her lips as he'd never done before, forceful, needy. She clutched his arms for a moment, startled, but quickly melted against him, returning his affections with ardent enthusiasm.

Roy finally pulled back, that strange dizziness racing through him. Sophie looked up at him, her eyes filled with the moon and he wondered, as if in a dream, _is this love?_

She leaned closer, tilting her head up to nuzzle along his jaw. "I've wanted you to do that for so long," she whispered, voice trembling, and he murmured something nonsensical in reply to hear her laugh. Is _this love?_ he thought once again. _Is this what it feels like?_

He bent to kiss her once more, her lips parting to his eagerly, but he only gave a teasing flick of his tongue, their mouths meeting in the briefest of touches before he released her. "I'll see you soon," he promised, and there was so much light pooled in her eyes that it hurt to look at. Her reply was hushed and hesitant, swelling with hope, then she turned and fled through the doorway with light steps. Roy stood for a moment longer, bathed in the silvery evening, before making his slow way back to the car, staring up at the stars as he walked.

* * *

Julia lived on the same street as the bakery, in a small flat above a teahouse. Car parked at the curb, he slouched in his seat and idly watched Ed escort the girl around to the side door entrance she used. The drive over had been quiet, which suited him fine. His mind still felt awash in moonbeams, everything just a little unreal, and he wasn't ready to face anything while still caught in this glamor. Beyond his window, a breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees lining the street while up the narrow walk between buildings, Julia's skirt fluttered like a moth's wing in the thin light.

Shadows played across the couple saying their goodnights, obscuring their faces to Roy's eyes. Julia's pale hair was a soft gray cloud, and even Ed's sunrise coloration was muted beneath the moon's glow. The wind shook the trees again, the light falling in little random splinters over them as the leaves shivered and swayed. The darker shadow that was Ed moved his hand up to the indistinct oval of Julia's face, possibly stroking her hair. Roy thought he caught a glimpse of her smiling before Ed's head dipped to hers, eclipsing her face from view.

But he had a clear view of Ed's back, the way the thin fabric of his shirt pulled from his shoulders, and he could imagine- having seen it before, at one time or another- the sharp planes of muscle and smooth skin beneath. Julia's hand slipped up, resting on the back of Ed's neck, and Roy's palm burned with phantom sensation, the memory of his own hand cupped there, fingers tracing the hard knobs of his spine. Roy's eyes followed the curve of his back, down to the narrow waist and hips snugged by black trousers, back up again to the bare skin above Ed's collar that her gesture had exposed, and only then did he realize that Ed and Julia were _kissing_ while he callously stared. Embarrassed, he tore his eyes away, but his hands still itched and curled restlessly in his lap and the weight of the evening, which he'd thought dissipated, settled back upon him with silent menace.

Even so, he couldn't stop his gaze from stealing up again, watching Ed take a half-step closer to the girl, moving with her, just as he'd moved beneath Roy's own hands at one time. From this objective stance, he could see the grace in every movement, the quivering balance of animal eagerness and human restraint, the careful, caged passion that was Edward engaged in a kiss.

That heaviness deepened, pooling down his spine and settling low and burning, and for one spiteful second Roy wanted to lean hard on the horn, disrupt the moment occurring in the shadows of the building. The urge was gone again in an instant, but it left him empty and confused in its wake. _No_, he thought, the hallucinogenic sheen of the evening shattered. _No, that's not right. I'm tired, I shouldn't have been drinking tonight. Need to go home, lie down, things will be better tomorrow._

He gripped the wheel tightly as Ed straightened, hair falling in pale gold rivulets down his back. Julia was already walking away, and some ungracious part of Roy was happy to see her go. _Tired_, he told himself again, _I just want to go home. _

Then at last Ed was turning, coming back to the car. Hands in his pockets, feet scuffling along the pavement, his head hung slightly down and Roy couldn't see his face at all behind the curtain of his bangs. But when he was almost at the car he glanced up, and Roy found himself caught in the gaze of those arresting eyes. Two steps, and it felt like ten years, then Ed was opening the door and slouching into the front seat next to Roy. He didn't meet Roy's eyes again, staring forward into the street, but neither did he cast so much as a glance back where he'd left Julia. "Let's go," he said, and didn't speak another word for the rest of the drive.

* * *

Ed unlocked the front door, pushing it open and disappearing into the dark within before Roy, following more slowly, had made it as far as the steps. It was a relief to be home, where he could safely avoid the strange mood that had been upon him all evening. Even if he couldn't explain the impulses moving him, he could easily close himself away from everyone else in his room, and by tomorrow everything would surely be back to normal.

By the time he reached the door itself, there was a light on in the hallway and faint rustling from upstairs, and Ed was nowhere in sight. Probably headed straight to his room, Roy thought, toeing off his shoes by the door, but before he could retreat to his own room, Ed came barreling down the stairs at him, one fist raised, and he shied back instinctively from the attack.

"Here!" Instead of a blow, the hand came down to present him with a small white container that Roy recognized as his medication. Arm outstretched, Ed glared at him, waiting for him to take the bottle before turning for the kitchen. "Now come on," he instructed over his shoulder, his tone brooking no argument, and the thought of disobeying never occurred to Roy.

He followed after the younger man, and by the time he entered the room Ed was already filling a glass with water. "Drink this," he growled, shoving the drink at him, "All of it, and take your goddamn tablets. Then we're talking."

He was used to Ed ordering him around in his own home, but tonight Roy wasn't in the mood. "I think I'd really rather-" he began, only to have the younger man cut him off sharply.

"Wasn't a request," he snapped, leaning back against the counter and fixing Roy with a stare that he recognized was Ed at his most intransigent. The hard gaze stayed upon him until he'd swallowed a couple of tablets and began drinking the water; only then did Ed nod slowly, some of the tension in his body fading.

"All night," he said, his voice curiously soft, "you've been acting weird. An' I know- I got fuck-all room to talk about weird behavior. But you _don't_ drink. You _know_ better, and I didn't... _Fuck_, Roy." Ed turned his back on him, hands gripping the countertop, shoulders bowed. "I don't know what's got you so freaked out that it made you start drinking again, but don't. I know what that shit does to you, and goddamn it, _don't_ fuck yourself up that way."

"I wasn't..." Roy started, then stopped himself. Sighing, he looked down at the half-empty glass in his hand. "I don't know why," he told Ed instead. "It was more than I thought I could handle tonight."

The look Ed shot over his shoulder was disbelieving. "Huge fucking formal functions are your_thing_, Mustang. Smiling and making nice with your enemies, and having to watch every damn word that comes out of your mouth is your messed up idea of a good time. This was a small group of _friends_. For fuck's sake, the only person there you didn't know well was Julia, and you can't tell me she scares you!"

_Julia was the only person there who _didn't _scare me_, Roy thought, though there was no way he was going to say it. But there wasn't anything he _could_ say; he couldn't explain how intensely aware he was of the younger man's presence, nor how Sophie's eyes had looked in the moonlight. The strange impulses moving him tonight were utterly opaque; how could he explain what he didn't understand?

Ed faced him once again, shifting from foot to foot, one hand reaching up to snag his tie and tug it loose so that it hung sloppily across his chest. "I don't _get_ it, Roy," he complained, but there was hurt underlying the words. "I thought... maybe things... _Shit_..."

He threw his head back, grimacing with frustration, and closed his eyes. And Roy, watching him, felt Ed's distress resonate within him even as his eyes were drawn to the exposed stretch of neck. His heart thumped once, hard, and then the echo from before was back, just out of sync with the frenzied pounding in his chest. He didn't need to see the flutter of Ed's pulse just below his jaw to confirm what he already knew, and the breath he drew was long and shuddering. At the sound, Ed looked up and blinked, his curious expression quickly morphing to alarm while Roy could only stare at him-

- and they were stumbling, nearly falling, Ed's arms around his shoulders, his hands tangled in gold hair so tight that it had to hurt, and Roy didn't have any idea how they'd come together or when he'd moved. There was only _this_- Ed's mouth on his with bruising urgency, their tongues stroking and tangling, and the world was heaving slowly to one side, spinning, until an arm tightened on his waist and Ed caught them with one hand on the countertop.

"_Fuck_," he whispered against Roy's lips, but the older man recaptured his mouth, stifling speech and drowning himself in this frantic madness, the desire to taste Ed, touch him, to release all the pent energies of the evening into him and press closer...

Somehow he'd turned them, pinning Ed to the counter with his hips and leaning into the kiss until Ed's back arched, bowing back toward the surface, and Roy's lips followed the accessible trail of skin down his jaw, his neck, to where the first button on his shirt had popped and the silvery cloth gaped. There was a glimpse of collarbone peeking out from beneath the fabric and Roy's mouth latched onto it, sucking greedily while Ed groaned beneath him. Hands grasped at his hips, his back, pulling him in tighter, and then Ed was tugging his head back up to kiss him again, teeth and tongue and desperate hunger.

The undeniable need sang through Roy; dimly, he was aware of things like consequences, boundaries, but those were distant, meaningless. This- Ed's taste upon his tongue, the strength barely held in check beneath his hands, the sheer, bright fire that blazed between them- was all that mattered in that moment. Ed's teeth closed on his earlobe, delicately biting until Roy gasped aloud, feeling his knees shaking as heat plunged through his body. He couldn't touch enough, kiss enough, to sate the ravenous desire that was building; by comparison, the kiss he'd shared with Sophie had been a pale imitation of this blinding passion-

Reason abruptly returned, a cold wash of water over his mind, shocking Roy back to his senses. He pulled his head back, staring down at the young man beneath him with wide, stunned eyes. His mouth worked soundlessly, reaching for any kind of explanation, but no words would come and he wasn't sure what could explain this anyway.

Still held in place by Roy's body, Ed blinked several times before scrubbing his face with one hand. He was delectably disheveled; most of his hair had been pulled free of the long tail, and several of the buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a broad swath of bare chest, still gleaming in slick trails where Roy's tongue had recently traveled. A dark red stain marred the skin over one collarbone- evidence of Roy's lack of control. He stared at it, watching the mark flex as Ed lifted an arm to push a hand through his sweaty bangs.

"That was..." he began breathlessly, then glanced up at Roy's face. "What _was_ that?"

A good question. Letting his head tip forward, resting against the warmth of Ed's chest, Roy closed his eyes tight. "I don't know," he said finally, voice weak and trembling. "I don't know."

Fingers curled in his hair, scratching gently at the nape of his neck. "Thought you didn't want to do this anymore," Ed remarked quietly. "Not with the girls an' all."

Pain welled in his heart, but Roy wasn't sure what he regretted. "I didn't," he answered, feeling broken inside, and every bit as confused as he'd been all night. "I do. I don't _know_..."

He stepped back, releasing Ed from where he'd been trapped against the counter, his body keening in protest at the loss of contact. Pulling a chair from the table, Roy dropped into it before his legs gave way, noticing for the first time the hard ache in his groin. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands and trying to bring his thoughts under control again. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay," Ed said. "Don't have to apologize."

"This can't... We shouldn't have..." Disjointed phrases, and words unequal to the meanings he intended were all that tumbled through his mind. Roy shook his head in frustration. "I need to think."

From the corner of his eye, Roy saw Ed prop himself up on his elbows, not bothering to move from the counter nor to tidy up his shirt, still hanging agape at his chest. He tugged his hair tie from the snarled mess it still clung to and shook out his hair before fixing his attention on Roy once again. "That's what was bothering you tonight, wasn't it?" he asked softly, and Roy nearly flinched.

"I don't know," he whispered even as his bones agreed. "I don't- god, I just need to _think_ about this."

"It's okay," Ed repeated, and Roy lifted his head.

"No, it's _not_," he snapped, harsher than he'd intended, and Ed recoiled from his tone. "We both have women we're seeing. I just lost control and _mauled_ you in the middle of the kitchen." He paused, breathing heavily. "That is definitely not okay."

The younger man's gold eyes focused past him, as if thinking very hard. Suddenly his expression changed; surprise played over his features for an instant before it was replaced by resolution. Pushing himself up, Ed ran a finger along his bruised collarbone and cocked his head at the table. "Dunno about you," he said in that peculiar, gentle voice. "but I missed this. And I still don't think it's anything wrong."

Animal desire clawed at him, and Roy shoved it down with an effort. "Ed, _please_," he begged, and the other man nodded.

"Okay," he said, though his face was filled with an odd tension. "Okay. But fuck, Roy, you've gotta talk to me, alright? This freaking out, and then drinking... I didn't keep you alive just so you could kill yourself some other stupid way." His voice had dropped low by the end, and Roy had to strain to hear him add, "Don't fuckin' hurt yourself like this."

The casual reminder of what Ed had sacrificed to save him drew Roy up sharp, and he straightened, turning to face the other man, ashamed. "I'm so sorry," he told him, and he was, more than he could say, for squandering the gift he'd been given. "After all you did for me, I shouldn't...."

Ed made an exasperated sound. "Idiot. That's not what I meant. I told you already, about that..." He shook his head, mouth tight. "Nevermind. Just... take care of yourself, okay? Don't make me worry."

He managed a weak smile for his friend. "I won't do this again."

"Better not." Gruff and disapproving, Ed was acting almost like his old self again except for the concern that darkened his eyes. Stepping away from the counter, he let his fingertips brush Roy's arm as he passed, the brief touch burning on his skin. "Don't think yourself to death either," he grumbled before walking off, his footsteps echoing back slow and steady as he moved off to his bedroom.

* * *

Roy took the glass of water with him when he went into the living room, placing it on the blotter as he sat down at his desk. He wasn't sure why he was retreating there, except that the source of at least part of his confusion was upstairs, across the hall from his own bedroom. The sofa would have been more comfortable, but there was no way he could sit upon it without remembering the many times he and Ed had kissed in that same spot and he needed his mind to be clear.

Edward. Sophie. How could he want them both?

Sophie, at least, made sense to him. She was the myth Maes had always insisted was real, a woman who would accept and love him despite his many flaws, his devotion to the state, his past sins. Patient, intelligent, whimsical yet practical, with enough poise and tact to match him- he had never met another woman like her, and doubted he would again. She held the promise of a life he'd never before considered, and never thought he deserved. With her, he could be happy.

But Ed...

Roy squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to understand what brought the irascible young alchemist into this equation at all. Kissing? He'd kissed more women than he cared to recall, and none of them provoked the response Ed drew from him. None of them had brought his carefully maintained control to its knees, sweeping it aside not with coy temptation, but a single honest gaze. He'd never been attuned to any of those women in his past the way he now _felt_ Ed. Not even Sophie. He loved her, but it wasn't the same.

This wasn't fair. He was leading someone on, regardless of his intentions, and that didn't sit well with him. He had always tried to keep his relationships respectful, and even when they were little more than physical flings, Roy never wanted them to be misunderstood as something more. For all the subterfuge in the rest of his life, his affairs had always been conducted above the table and that wasn't a trend he cared to break. If he wanted to continue with Sophie, to see if the feelings between them were the kind to last a lifetime, he couldn't allow what happened tonight to occur again. And if what he wanted was Ed...

It seemed an impossible idea. He wasn't homophobic- it was impossible to come up through a nearly all-male military without being aware that some bunkmates were closer than friends, and to hold issue with comrades for who they chose to sleep with was ludicrous. And yet the concept of taking a male lover was something he'd never entertained. It simply didn't fit with the intrinsic view he carried of himself, his understanding of who he was. How could he accept a new view of his sexuality now, well into his thirties, when he'd thought he'd fully explored that aspect of himself?

But then what did that kiss in the kitchen mean?

Round and round his thoughts cycled, never arriving at a conclusion. Roy sat at the desk, clenching his fists and staring at the wall for what felt like hours as he debated with himself, until he was finally forced to accept that there would be no answers tonight. He was worn by the stress of the evening, exhausted and faintly disappointed, and the only thing that kept him from stumbling upstairs to his bed were the slight creaks from the beams above his head, indicating that Ed was still awake as well.

Instead he slid open a drawer, retrieving his journal and flipping it open to the page where he'd put Ed's drawing of the array. It had been a while since he'd worked with it, and even if he didn't really expect to make any progress, the sight of it would keep Ed at a distance if he did venture back down.

He looked over the complicated circle with only half his attention really on the work. His concentration was fairly well shot for the night, and as he puzzled over the arcs and symbols, his mind flitted among memories of the night; images of Sophie and far more sensory details of Ed. Roy sighed, pushed the distracting thoughts aside, and tried again.

It was difficult, but after a frustrating hour he managed to gain some small momentum on his studies and his thoughts wandered a little less. This line to this sigil meant life, or heart, and was connected to this element which represented endurance, and did he love Sophie enough? Here was power, or energy, or light- it could be read many ways- and it, too, connected with life, and what was this thing he and Ed shared anyway? Did it have a name? Balancing all of this was sacrifice, and despite himself he frowned over that symbol, for he could never read that without thinking of Ed, who brimmed with life, giving pieces of himself away forever, to keep him alive...

It struck like lightning, like a heart attack. A flash of insight, staring down at the array, awestruck, and in that moment Roy suddenly understood.

He understood _everything_.

* * *

He dozed and awoke too many times in the night to count, what little rest he managed broken by bizarre dreams of unfulfilled yearning, and when the dawn finally scratched its way down his walls he gave up the pretense of slumber and stumbled into the shower, bathing quickly and dressing in subdued attire. Despite the headache he was suffering from the alcohol and far too little sleep, he left the house before Ed ever stirred.

The streets of Central were quiet that early, the occasional lilt of birdsong, normally drowned out by street noises, cutting through the morning in pleasant surprise. The sun crept down the avenues like warm honey, gilding everything it touched, and Roy shaded his eyes as he passed the cafe he and Sophie frequented, standing silent and dim, waiting to be opened.

By the time he reached the establishment that had been his goal, the jewelry shop had already flung wide its shutters to the fresh morning air and was ready for the busy Saturday crowds yet to come. Smiling at his fortune in finding the shop still empty of customers, Roy approached the counter and its sleepy-looking attendant.

"There's a ring," he said quietly, "on display in your window case. I'd like to purchase it."


	6. Chapter 6

Ed was awake when he returned, curses and the banging of pans informing Roy as to his location. It was doubtful the young man had even realized he'd gone anywhere, and so he slipped into the living room, placing the velvet box from the jewelers on his desk with a worried frown. As excited as he'd been last night, delirious and exhausted, and as eager as he'd been to make the purchase, he wasn't yet ready to tackle the challenge it represented. He'd only get one shot at it, and it would have to be perfect.

A particularly loud bang, followed by a yelp, made him look up with surprise and some amusement. Ed was a surprisingly good cook when he managed to keep his attention on what he was doing, but breakfast was the overwhelming exception to the rule. Still groggy from sleep and before the coffee had provided its caffeinated boost to the morning, Ed didn't so much prepare breakfast as wage war on it. From the sound of things, the meal had gained the upper hand, and Ed was readying his offensive. For the sake of peace and an intact kitchen, Roy decided that it was time for a diplomatic intervention.

Stepping out into the hall Roy wondered briefly how it was going to be, facing Ed after what transpired the previous night, and he felt it was one of his greater acts of bravery that he continued instead of turning tail and hiding in his room for the rest of the day. But to his relief, when he entered Ed just looked up at him, blew his bangs out of his face and said, "You're here, you do the eggs," shoving the overfilled pan his way. Just like always.

They worked in companionable silence, broken only by the stray quiet question and grunted response. Before long Roy was spooning the eggs out onto plates while Ed slathered slices of toast with jam, clutching his coffee mug in an automail grip as though it held the elixir of life. The bacon had been left on the back burner for too long but it still appeared to be edible, so Roy added it to the plates as well before pouring his own mug of coffee and taking his seat. Ed flopped down across from him, all tangled hair and sleepy eyes, and tucked into his food without a word.

Despite knowing that he shouldn't, Roy stole occasional glances up at his housemate while they ate. As was usual when it was warm, Ed was wearing only boxers, and a tank top that must have been at least one size too large. It hung loose at the neck and the arms, the red bruise across his collarbone plainly visible. More than once Roy found his eyes resting there, on the mark he'd made, his stomach gone suddenly light and shaky.

But the sheer normality of their routine soothed the few fits of nerves Roy had from being close to Ed. The young man grumbled through his first plate of food, got seconds and another cup of coffee, and by the time he went back for one last piece of toast Ed was alert and trading jabs with him, and it could have been any unexceptional Saturday morning. They ended up gravitating into the living room, with a heavy book of Cretan alchemy written in a dead language that Ed, of course, could read, and the morning paper for Roy, sitting back to back on the sofa as usual. By now it felt far stranger to sit any other way than pillowed against the other man's shoulders, but it didn't feel safe to let his mind dwell upon Ed's solid presence at his back for too long, so Roy focused on the newspaper instead.

He was deliberately not paying attention to Ed so hard that it took a while for Roy to notice that the occasional noises of pages being turned had ceased. Warm hair was nestled against the back of his neck where Ed was resting his head, staring out into the center of the room. This was not part of the pattern they followed, and he was about to ask if something was bothering Ed when the young man spoke.

"I didn't realize," he said in hushed, careful voice, "that you and Sophie were so serious."

Roy's brows tightened in confusion at the unexpected comment. "We've been exclusive since we started dating..." he replied slowly, but Ed interrupted.

"No, I mean... you really _like_ her, don't you? Like, someone you could stay with. For good."

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Roy said, "We haven't really gotten to that sort of thing yet. Edward-"

"So I was thinking," Ed continued in that overly cautious tone, "that maybe I oughta be tryin' harder to get my own place."

The remark completely blindsided Roy, and his heart contracted into a small, painful lump in his chest in the silence following the statement. The newspaper dropped into his lap, as he dared to voice the question, "Does this have to do with last night?"

The silky mass of Ed's hair brushed his ear as the younger man shook his head. "Nah, don't be stupid. Told you how I felt about that. I just... I don't wanna be in your way. You've got your own life, and I've been pretty inconsiderate..."

"Edward." Roy shifted, his usual signal that he wanted Ed to sit up, but today the gesture was ignored; Ed remained pressed to his back, head tucked into the crook of his shoulder. Unable to look him in the face, Roy frowned. "You never have been. There's no reason for you to leave."

He felt the sigh fill Ed's lungs. "Just don't think I'm being fair to you."

It was amazing, Roy thought as his lungs froze with panic, how such an innocuous comment could clarify his mind so rapidly. "I don't want you to go," he replied, perhaps a little too fast, but it was important that he make himself clear.

"Can't stay forever." Ed's voice was a rough, uneven growl, and he turned his face into Roy's hair. "Things change, Mustang, I get that."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He wanted to leap up, force Ed to look at him so that he might understand, but Roy sat still, afraid to jostle the other man from his strangely vulnerable posture, this sudden talk of leaving more distressing than he could have expected. Nearly a year since Ed had moved in, and he couldn't even think of it as simply his home any longer; it was Ed's as well now, and how could he believe he was in the way...?

"Sometimes you just see things differently," Ed told him, cryptic and quiet, and rolled forward, leaving Roy free to twist around. But the young man was already on his feet, looking out over the room with a strange, glum expression. His gaze seemed to settle on something, but it quickly shifted over to Roy, who stared back at him with painful intensity.

"Please don't make this decision hastily." He was willing to beg, if Ed would only reconsider. Maybe Hawkeye was right, maybe he was no good on his own, because damned if the thought of Ed leaving didn't make him seize up inside. And perhaps the young man saw this, because some of the sad determination in his eyes faded as Roy held his eyes. _Please_...

Sunlight glinted off of metal plates as Ed finally shrugged. "I'll think about it," he conceded, still sounding uncertain. Gold eyes flicked back to that unidentified focal point and his mouth firmed into a frown. "Goin' to the library," he mumbled, before retreating upstairs to change his clothes.

Roy listened to the sounds of the other man moving around overhead, stomach tight with apprehension. After a few minutes Ed clomped back down, not making eye contact as he hurried out the door, and Roy restrained the urge to watch him go from the window. Instead he stood, moving over to the desk and taking up his journal.

Weighing the book in his hand, he looked down at the little velvet ring box still sitting unobtrusively on the edge of his blotter and felt his courage flagging. But in the end he picked it up, tucking it in his pocket before walking stiffly to the door to his basement. This couldn't be done tonight, but there were preparations he could make in the meantime. And then he had to call Sophie.

Roy was a strategist. He was accustomed to the future being a nebulous thing, something that could be analyzed but never predicted with absolute certainty, and he'd learned to plan for as many contingencies as he could imagine. But this time he felt adrift, his last, best chances for happiness floating beyond his reach or control, and there was no way of knowing where he might be cast up.

He slid his hand into his pocket, fingers curling around the soft corners of the box, and sent up a silent prayer that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

Roy spent the afternoon at a play with Sophie and her sister, and afterwards they dropped her sister off and the two of them returned for a quiet dinner at the small house she rented. It was pleasant, but lingering worries and questions swarmed like stinging flies, constantly pricking and distracting him as he spoke, and although she said nothing about his preoccupation, Sophie's smile soon stopped reaching her eyes.

Before he left, Sophie stopped him in the hallway as he was sliding on his shoes. Stepping in close, she tilted her head up and whispered, "Roy. Please... kiss me. Like you did last night." Her eyes were bright with the memory of moonlight, and rich with entreaty, and her fingers plucked at his collar with nervous excitement. _I love her_, he whispered to his heart, staring down into her expectant face, and again as he bent to kiss her. _I love her_.

But his heart said nothing back.

He did his best. He tried, he honestly tried to recapture the heat of that moment. He gave his best effort to summon the passion that had always been so easy to find, the raw emotion that she desired. But the kiss he managed was nothing like the one he'd given her before, and as he drew back, he knew that she could tell the difference. Oh, she smiled at him, lovely and demure, but he could see the comparison in her eyes, and knew that he had failed.

Discomfited, he bade her goodnight, promising to call the following evening, and she waved from her porch as he drove away.

The house was dark and quiet when he returned, and Roy stood in the middle of the living room for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. There was the array, now laid out on his workbench in the basement, but he was still tired from his near-sleepless night, and didn't trust himself not to make mistakes. And sitting on the sofa to read, as he might otherwise have done, wasn't nearly so appealing without Ed's presence. He sighed, wondering where the young man was, although he was almost certain he knew the answer.

Julia... she and Ed were very close. It bothered him in a way he was afraid to name, how close they seemed to be. Julia wasn't Merisel, she wasn't a person who would hurt Ed in any way, and he knew he ought to be content with his friend's happiness. Yet when Roy thought of them together his stomach clenched. Ed and Julia, standing in the shadows kissing- a spark of irrational anger grew in him, making him want to snarl that _he_ had been there first, he'd left his mark, and it was _his_ teeth on Ed's neck that caused the young man to shiver uncontrollably...

Roy made a quiet, despairing sound, giving up the fight, and tilted his head back. Jealousy. How embarrassing. And so foolish- what claim did he have on Ed? Was he supposed to ask his friend to give up a relationship that was inarguably good for him, so that he could have his company in the house, and kisses that led nowhere? What could he offer, when he wasn't even sure what he wanted?

And Sophie. Shame heating his cheeks, Roy dropped onto the sofa and put his face in his hands. Last night, in a weary daze, he'd thought he'd seen the answer, imperfect though it was. But now it seemed impossible once again. For all that Ed had inveigled his way so deeply into his life, Sophie was important to him as well. The thought of letting go of her was as difficult as the idea of losing Ed. And yet it seemed that the two couldn't coexist in his heart without conflict.

For a bare, fleeting moment, Roy wished that his principles would allow him both. But even in his imagination that didn't work. Did he want the same kind of idyllic marriage that Maes had enjoyed? A lovely wife, a family, a normal life? Could he afford to risk that, to throw it away for something he didn't understand, with a man- a _man!_- whose future may very well lie elsewhere?

"I'm considering a relationship with _Edward Elric_, instead of marrying Sophie as quick as I can put a ring on her finger," Roy said softly, and his breath hitched once. He said it again, disbelieving, and his shoulders shook with the effort of not bursting into distraught laughter. "Oh god," he gasped, "Oh god_damn_ me, I'm losing my mind. With _Edward_... who has a girlfriend, and- oh god."

It would have been really funny, if it wasn't so fucking sad.

* * *

He pulled himself together and went to bed some time later, but his sleep was light and broken, and after several hours with little rest he realized he was waiting to hear the front door, and Ed coming home. But the night dragged on, well past the hour when the young man usually returned from visiting Julia, with no jingling of keys or familiar, uneven tread coming up the stairs. Roy dozed, woke, drifted off again only to start alert as the clock in the hall chimed.

Finally, at nearly three in the morning, the front door creaked and there were the footsteps he knew so well on the stairs, in the hall. Hesitation, just outside his bedroom door, then he heard Ed shutting his own door, and Roy's body finally let go of the tension it had been holding. But his mind, overtired and overstimulated, refused to stop racing.

Where had Ed been? He was never this late anymore, and hadn't been for a very long time. And surely he wasn't picking up women at the bars any longer. He'd never mentioned that anything was amiss between himself and Julia, and whatever she did for him had made Ed happier than Roy could ever recall seeing before. The only thing lacking in their relationship, now that he thought about it, was sex-

No.

Roy's eyes opened wide in the darkness, listening to the faint sounds of Ed in the room across the hall. No, they couldn't have. Julia was too much of an innocent, he couldn't imagine... But Ed, coming back so late- why else would he be out until the hours before dawn?

There was a heavy _flump_ in the other room, the sounds of bedsprings protesting. Roy turned his face into his pillow and wanted to howl with frustration.

* * *

The remainder of the weekend was miserable. Both men seemed intent on pretending that nothing had ever happened, but it lurked beneath the surface nonetheless, in the careful way they spoke to one another, and the difficulty they had meeting each others' eyes. Subdued and quiet, Ed finally went out before lunchtime, which eased the awkwardness, but Roy quickly found that the other man's absence was even harder to handle than his presence.

He worked with the array in the basement for awhile, but the meticulous nature of the work was difficult given his spotty concentration. When he caught himself drifting for a second time while tracing out the design he stopped, putting his tools aside. There was no room for errors, and he wasn't about to ruin it all by pushing himself into drawing an incorrect line. Shaking his head at what little progress he'd made, Roy cleaned up his workbench and tucked the drawing back into his journal.

Too moody to want to leave, too restless to want to stay in, and too many hours until he could crawl back into bed. He invented diversion after diversion- chores that needed to be done, projects he'd meant to start- but he was irritable and distracted, and one by one they were all abandoned. He called Sophie, but even though she could sense his strange mood, she was unable to soothe it out of him. Their conversation was flat and empty, and after suffering through it for a while Sophie mercifully ended the call, pleading a previous commitment with a friend. It was with relief that Roy hung up the phone, though it left him once again facing the hollow hours of the afternoon.

He finally made himself override the anxious urge to move, and stretched out on the sofa with a book. He was worn from lack of sleep and sick to death of thinking, and forcing his mind to make sense of the words on the page was more work than pleasure, but it was still better than letting his thoughts linger in the same helpless track they'd worn since Friday night. Reading was a pointless exercise, as he retained nothing from page to page, but it served to calm him a little and the heat of the afternoon sun eventually lulled his weary body into sleep.

When he awoke, dusky shadows draped the room and outside the window crickets were singing an evening song. The leather of the couch was almost hot beneath him but Roy didn't move, blinking lazily as he tried to focus his eyes. From the dimness cloaking the room he judged that it was past dinnertime, but there didn't seem to be any lights on in the house, nor the sounds of movement. Only the faint orange glow of a gaslight flickering to life in the street outside his window, the quiet hiss of his own slow breathing-

Wait, no. That wasn't him.

He noticed the legs first, sprawling away from the chair and nearly invisible in black leather against the gloom. The dark shirt similarly camouflaged Ed's chest, but his arms glowed softly in the warm light, silver and gold. Cheek pillowed on a fist, elbow propped on the chair's arm, head slumping downward in what had to be an uncomfortable position while gold hair straggling loose from a messy braid flung over his shoulder. The young man's mouth was slightly agape as he breathed, his face utterly relaxed, so open that Roy found himself staring at Ed with unabashed interest.

Chest aching, he levered himself careful up on one elbow so that he could see him better, but the slight noise caused Ed's eyelids to flutter and then open. There was a moment of silence as they stared at one another before Ed shifted and yawned, wincing slightly. "Ow," he growled, voice roughened with sleep, eyes cloudy. "M'fuckin' neck hurts."

"That always was a bad chair to sleep in," Roy commented, still unable to take his eyes off of the other man as Ed stretched and tried to rub his sore neck.

"Mm. Didn't mean to fall asleep." Ed must've fallen asleep watching _him_, a detail that didn't escape Roy's notice, and something warm and quietly happy pushed aside the anxious knot below his heart that had been weighing him down all day.

He hesitated for a moment. "I never heard you come in."

Ed's gaze lifted, hand still on the back of his neck, and the young man gave him a wry half-smile. "You were out cold. And you looked so damn tired I figured I wouldn't wake you."

"It would have been alright," Roy told him in a low voice, and Ed shrugged in reply. His eyes remained locked with Roy's.

They weren't saying what they were thinking, neither of them, but all of those unspoken words seemed irrelevant at that moment. The tension that had infected the household all weekend was gone, replaced by something close and intimate, and Roy thought he might give anything to hold that feeling. But as if on cue, Edward's stomach let out a loud, demanding rumble, and the young man groaned.

"Shit, it was my night for dinner, wasn't it? Don't have any idea what to make, it'll have to be something quick..."

"Why don't we go out for Xingian?" Roy suggested, swinging his legs around so that he could sit up. "That way you don't have to bother with cooking." And maybe this comfortable feeling might stay with them.

Ed considered for a minute, then nodded. "Yeah, that sounds pretty good." One hand plucked the tie from his braid, fingercombing the strands out. "I should fix this mess before we go, it's no good after I've slept on it..."

He sectioned his hair quickly, but the crick in his neck gave him difficulty in rebraiding the strands. After a couple of attempts, punctuated by Ed's curses and mounting frustration, Roy leaned forward to get his attention. "May I?"

For a moment Roy was certain that Ed would brush off the offer. The young man's mouth twisted, but he let his hands drop to his knees and rolled his shoulders as if to suggest it didn't matter. It was invitation enough for Roy, who motioned for Ed to come sit beside him on the sofa, smiling as the other man did so.

He let his hands slide through the thick mass of hair, strands flowing like silk around his fingers, before buckling down to the task, separating and weaving it into the familiar heavy plait. It was hard to concentrate on the work, being this close to Ed, however. His hands remembered the sensation of touching that tanned, supple skin, and a few times his fingertips brushed against Ed's neck in a way that wasn't purely necessary.

The desire to turn Ed around, to kiss him, was almost unbearable. But Roy thought of Julia, and with a heartdropping certainty knew he couldn't do that. Imperiling his own relationship was one thing; disrupting Ed's was quite another. _He's earned his happy ending_, Roy mused, his thumb sweeping through the soft tail of hair as he tied the plait off. _If I care about him, I have to let him go._

They would always share a deep friendship; he wasn't willing to ever relinquish that. And there was a part of Ed that would always belong to him, a piece Ed had given freely, and it was a greater gift than he deserved. He could be content with that.

The finished braid hung slightly off-center, and wasn't as tight as Ed normally made it, but it would do. With a melancholy smile that Ed couldn't see, Roy pushed the braid aside and bent down to press one last, longing kiss onto the nape of his neck, just above his collar. Ed sat very still beneath his lips, twisting around to look at him with an expression that was hard to see in the gathering night when he drew back. "What was that for?" he asked, and Roy couldn't tell if there was anger or apprehension in the question.

"It... I just wanted to," Roy told him quietly, and oh, he wanted to touch him again. But Ed was still watching him, eyes dark and inscrutable, and if that terrible awkwardness came between them once more Roy wasn't sure he could stand it. Feeling his pulse beginning to race, he asked, "Was that alright?"

"No, I mean... yeah, it was fine. It's fine." Ed's voice had an odd, husky quality, making Roy wish he could see his face better, but the acceptance he heard was enough to make him weak with relief. Cool metal fingers brushed the back of his hand, not quite a caress, but Roy felt himself heat as though feverish at the touch. Pausing at the door, Ed turned back and extended his hand to him. "C'mon," he said. "Let's go."

* * *

After that evening, things improved around the house. Although a part of Roy twisted whenever he saw Ed off for an evening with Julia, it was still better by far than the awkwardness that had permeated most of the weekend. The normal routine of their home slowly reasserted itself, and were it not for the ache that filled him from time to time, Roy could almost believe things were as they'd been before.

Mending things with Ed also brought an improvement in his relationship with Sophie. Feeling more himself, Roy took her out dancing on Tuesday night, and the disenchantment from before seemed to vanish as they circled and spun on the floor. She laughed, and gave him the smiles he'd come to love, and were it not for the occasional pangs he felt as he looked at her, Roy would have thought his life couldn't possibly be improved.

He dropped her off at her house later that evening, after making plans to see her on Friday, and although he sensed that she wanted him to kiss her as they stood together on the porch, he couldn't bring himself to risk disappointing her again. Instead he left her with a quick peck on the cheek, and hoped she wouldn't be offended by his return to the restrained courting that had characterized their earlier dates.

She voiced no complaint, but her smile was opaque, and her dark eyes glimmered as she wished him a good night.

The next few weeks seemed to fly past; work at the office, evenings at home with Ed. Dinners with Sophie, dancing, a play. One glorious afternoon, playing chess with Ed in the baking heat of his backyard and arguing about nothing of consequence. One seemingly endless night, counting the chimes of the clock until Edward came home again.

The summer crept on.

It wasn't long before Roy began seeing a pattern to his behavior. When Ed was out with Julia, he never cared how late he was out with Sophie. Yet if the other man mentioned that he would be home on an evening, or if there was a chance he didn't have plans, there was always a reason for Roy's night to end early. When he realized what he'd been doing he felt rightly guilty for shortchanging Sophie of his time. But he rationalized that Ed was going to move out sometime, probably sooner than later, and then the situation would right itself, and he would be free to devote all of his attention to Sophie. But until then, he wanted to spend time with his friend, knowing that once Ed had moved on there would likely be far less contact between them; a thought that saddened him.

In the meantime he tried to make up for his distraction in little ways; sending flowers, calling her from the office just to say hello and inquire about her day. He didn't want Sophie to feel neglected, for she was dear to him no matter what draw he felt toward Edward, and with that in mind Roy spent an afternoon pulling strings and calling in a few favors to secure them a table at the most exclusive restaurant in Central. He decided to leave their destination a surprise, so he could enjoy the look of delight on her face when she realized just where he was taking them. It would be a fine gesture, he thought, a way to express to her just how much she meant to him

With a satisfied smile on his face, Roy dialed her up to make plans for Saturday night.

* * *

"Fuck's sake, Roy, enough is enough! Give it a rest!"

Roy scowled at the young man, lounging in his doorway with a cocky grin. "I don't think you realize how selective this establishment is," he told him. "It wouldn't do to show up looking anything but one's best. Now where the hell are my antique cufflinks?"

Ed snorted. "What, are they gonna inspect you or something when you arrive? Give you a test, look at your teeth? Shit, I can't believe you'd _want_ to go to some place like that. Check your suit pocket."

There was something off about the young man; he'd been picking up hints of it all day. They were only glimpses, caught from the corner of his eye, and disappearing whenever he tried to study Ed to work out what was amiss. For the most part, Roy only saw the caustic attitude the other man always projected. But he could sense the difference nonetheless, a faint disturbance like a ripple in a pool, or the subtle trace of old alchemy.

The cufflinks were exactly where Ed had suggested. With grumbled thanks, Roy fastened his cuffs and stepped back, examining his reflection in the mirror with a critical eye. "That's got it."

"Vain bastard." Ed rolled his eyes, and feigned disinterest.

Perhaps it was simply because Julia was out of town this weekend, visiting family. Not that Ed had been acting lonely; he seemed perfectly content lazing around the house. Although... he _had _called Al twice already today, and while the brothers were still close despite the distance separating them, Ed usually only called Al once a week or so. Maybe, Roy thought, it was Alphonse that Edward was missing, and he made a mental note to mention another vacation to his subordinate. Ed was certainly entitled to it, and Roy wanted him to be happy.

Glancing at his pocketwatch, Roy did a few quick mental calculations. If he left within the next few minutes he'd have plenty of time to stop by the florist's and pick up the flowers he'd ordered, collect Sophie from her house and get them to the restaurant early enough that they could sit in the lounge and talk for a while before their table was ready. Satisfied with the way his plans were working out, Roy tucked his watch back in his pocket, and from the edge of his vision saw Ed's face pull into a small, unhappy frown. But by the time he looked up it was gone, and Ed's expression was one of fond disdain.

He picked up his jacket, sliding it on. "What are you planning to do tonight?" Roy asked, pretending not to watch the other man as he patted his hair down one last time. From the doorway Ed shrugged, arms crossed over his chest, eyes distant.

"I dunno. Got a few letters I oughta write, might do that." Another shrug. "Nothing near as exciting as what you've got planned."

There was nothing overtly unusual in Ed's tone, but it still caught his ear. Roy had lived with him long enough to pick up on the subtleties of his speech and hear the tension there, even though it was hidden well enough that Al was probably the only other person who would notice. And, he ceded with some regret, Al was likely the only person who could coax Ed into admitting it. Roy studied the man leaning against the doorframe, golden hair tumbling loose around his shoulders, radiating amusement and insouciance even as his bright eyes were dimmed by shadows, and wished that he knew how to chase that darkness away.

"Is there anything-" he began, although he wasn't sure what he was offering. Ed raised an eyebrow at him as he floundered for words, and then huffed a short laugh.

"Get out of here, Mustang," he told him. "Your date's waiting for you."

Roy hesitated, wanting to say something more but unable to find the words. And Ed was right; it was time for him to leave. The young man sidled out of the way as he moved through the door, standing just out of reach and watching Roy with a stiff grin. "Go on," he said, making shooing motions as he herded the other man down the stairs. "Have a good time, and don't fuckin' touch the alcohol."

Anything Roy might have said in reply would have had to make its way past the hard lump in his throat, and so he simply gave Ed a wan smile and a wave, and headed for the car.

* * *

Sophie didn't answer the door at his first knock. He heard her coming on the heels of the second, and Roy smiled in anticipation as he fingered the petals of the lilies in the corsage he'd brought for her. However when the door swung open he was surprised to see that she wasn't dressed for an elegant evening, but instead wore a faded gingham dress and a light sweater. He stared at her, nonplussed, for a moment but alarm stiffened his spine when she lifted her face, exposing red-rimmed eyes that had been hidden by the dark tangle of her curls.

"Sweetheart," he exclaimed, one hand reaching out as worry shook him. "What's wrong?"

Her mouth curled in a tremulous smile, but her eyes were so, so sad. "Roy," she said, very softly, stepping back and motioning him inside. "Please come in. We need to talk."

* * *

The keys fell, clattering on the doorstep. Roy bent to pick them up, numb fingers clutching them in an indelicate grip as he fumbled one into the lock. It bound, and he twisted at it uselessly for a few moments before realizing it was the backdoor key. It took another minute for him to find the correct one, picking through the little bits of metal without any recognition. This time the door swung inward, but there was no relief at his success and he stepped into the house feeling every passing second crushing him.

He didn't know what to do. There was nothing but an awful, ringing silence inside of him, and he stood, lost in his own foyer, and couldn't even move to go to his bedroom, the living room, anywhere. He couldn't even remember the drive home, and was distantly aware that he should be appalled that he'd gotten behind the wheel in such a state. But it didn't matter to him at all.

Rapid footsteps pattered upstairs, followed moments later by Ed's appearance at the top of the stairs, wary and on guard against the unexpected arrival, but he paused in confusion. "Roy?" he exclaimed, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "What are you doing back?"

It seemed impossible to speak, the effort far beyond his abilities. Something must have showed on his expression, because Ed was down the stairs in an instant, grasping his arm and looking up into his face, worry sharpening his gaze. "Shit, you look terrible! Come on, sit down..."

Roy was ushered into the living room, and sat down on the couch with Ed hovering solicitously next to him, still holding his arm. "What happened?" he demanded. "Are you okay? Fuck's sake, Roy, talk to me!" His voice rose in alarm, and the lithe body at Roy's knee was tensed with adrenaline, ready to leap into action. The hand locked on his arm shook.

"She broke up with me." The words sounded distant, as though someone else had spoken them; surely it wasn't him, still sitting there in shock. Ed started as though slapped, but wouldn't let go.

"Sophie?" he asked, disbelief evident in the question. "But... she couldn't... she _wouldn't_, Roy, why would she do that? She's the fuckin' _world_ to you, doesn't she know?"

"_Sophie, please- I don't want to lose you!"_

_She was so beautiful, smiling at him, sad and forlorn. "You haven't lost me. I've lost you."_

__

A strangled whisper. "I'm right here."

She sighed, and pain stabbed clear through him, seeing her this unhappy. "You're right here, but your heart is somewhere else."

"No. No, Sophie, I love you-"

_"Don't." She held up a hand, and for the first time, tears glistened in her eyes. "Roy, you don't. You've tried- oh, my sweet man, you've tried. But... I don't know who you love, but it isn't me. And we can't afford to pretend, neither of us. Not in something like this."_

"It wasn't enough," Roy mumbled, covering his face with his hands, misery battering against the walls of his control. "I couldn't give her enough, not what she deserved."

"No!" Ed's refutal was furious, indignant. "That's _bullshit_, how can she say that? How can _you_ say that? I oughta go down there, tell her-"

"Ed." Roy lifted his head, staring at the young man's livid expression with aching eyes. "It's over. She's not coming back."

But Ed wouldn't be deterred. "We can still talk to her though, right? She's made a mistake, you love her, we can show her that! She'll see, she was wrong, Roy, she'll come back..."

Why wouldn't he understand? "She was right," Roy whispered, despair breaking him down as he realized just how right she'd been. How unfair _he'd_ been, to everyone, and he'd _known_ it, deep down. It was a bitter truth to admit, but he had to; he'd denied it long enough. He'd failed, and he'd lost her; he'd lost every chance given him and what did he have left? Nothing, nothing...

He'd forgotten about Ed's hand latched onto his arm until it tugged at him. "You can't give up," the other man insisted, wretched determination filling his face. "Weren't you going to propose? What about the ring?"

Surprise jolted Roy from his pain. "What ring?" he asked, and Ed colored beneath his scrutiny.

"The, uh, the _ring_," he stammered. "The one you brought home the day after we all went out."

If he weren't already filled with more emotion than he could process, Roy thought, if he weren't clinging to the numbness filling him as a shield against crumbling completely, he might be furious at the implied snooping. "I never showed you that ring," he stated coldly, and Ed flushed brighter. "How do you know about it?"

The hand dropped from his arm, and Ed shrugged helplessly. "I just... when I got up that morning, you weren't around. I thought maybe you were in here, and I looked- but you weren't, and there wasn't anything out of place, you know how orderly you keep things. And then later, you got back, and when we came in here it was _there_, on your desk... What else would it be," he finished miserably, "but a ring for Sophie? You've been nuts for her ever since you met, everyone knows that."

He hadn't looked. He didn't know... Roy shook his head, feeling far worse than before. "It wasn't for her," he said quietly. "Maybe it should have been." He hid his face in his hands once more, angry with himself, hurting, and so very empty. "Oh _god_, I messed up..."

Strong arms encircled him, drawing him close until he folded against the other man's chest, his face against the hollow of Ed's throat as gentle fingers carded through his hair. "_She_ fucked up," Ed whispered, fierce voice cracking with intensity. "Lettin' you go was the stupidest thing she coulda done, can't _believe_ she'd be so dumb. She's never gonna find another one like you, Roy, she'll be sorry, she'll be back..."

The tumble of reassuring words tickled his ear, but they only increased his pain. How could Ed know that Sophie had told him nearly the same thing? That she loved him so much, that she'd never find his match; it was such cruel irony. But here, in Ed's protective embrace, was an agony even worse than his loss. Because if Sophie was right, if he loved anyone other than her, then _this _was where his heart lay, at the feet of a man who was beyond his reach.

The woman of his dreams was gone, Ed belonged to someone else, and even as his friend tried to comfort him, that blow finally broke Roy's stoicism. Bereft, heartbroken and hopeless, he pushed himself out of the other's arms, away from the succor he didn't deserve. "I'm sorry," he choked out, lurching to his feet and trying not to look at the hurt that flashed in those arresting gold eyes. "I'm sorry, Edward, I'm a fool, and I'm so, so sorry..."

Turning, he all but fled up the stairs, stumbling, staggering like a drunk until he was inside his bedroom, behind a closed door, and he could sink down onto the edge of his bed. Trembling, a fisted hand held to his mouth, he lashed himself over every misstep and willful blind eye he'd turned to the choices he'd made and there, alone in the darkness, Roy finally allowed the tears to fall.


	7. Chapter 7

The relationship's failure left Roy morose, angry with himself for his blind stupidity, and desperately lonely. He made a few attempts to keep in touch with Sophie, to remain friends, but it was too awkward and painful, and eventually they both agreed it would be better to cut things off entirely. Thankfully, work was too busy to allow him to withdraw into his office and indulge in self-castigation, but he still reflected, in pauses between paperwork, on the damage his thoughtlessness had caused not only to Sophie, but to himself.

And then there was Ed. If he had felt that the potential for anything between them was impossible before, Roy was now doubly convinced. Had he been honest with himself from the beginning, he might have realized that what he felt for the young man went far beyond respect and friendship, and perhaps he might have been willing to take the risk. Instead he'd allowed fear to control him, and if he wasn't brave enough to face his own insecurities while Ed was still unattached, then he didn't deserve him now.

Even so, for a while he entertained wistful daydreams of Ed separated from Julia, and the opportunity to confess the depth of his feelings. But as Ed continued to arrive home late from his evenings out with his girlfriend, Roy finally forced himself to put the thoughts aside. He'd had his chance and let it pass; Ed had what he wanted now, and Roy would do everything he could to support his friend's happiness, even if it meant crushing every hope that tried to spring up in his own heart.

Surprisingly, Ed had developed an inexplicable protective attitude regarding him. The military bred thick skins, and the office crew tended to deal with heartbreak and other disappointments through jokes and disparagement, but where it concerned Roy and Sophie, Ed would have none of it. While driving them to Headquarters one morning, Havoc tried to make a weak joke that perhaps this was Roy's comeuppance for stealing so many girlfriends in the past. It was an unintentionally callous remark, and thought it stung, Roy wasn't offended- he deserved it, after all- but Ed reached forward, quick as a snake, and smacked the back of the Lieutenant's head hard with an automail palm. "Shut the fuck up!" he snarled, clinging to the back of the seat while Havoc yelped, and the car veered crazily across the road. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

Havoc swore, yanking that car back under control, and narrowly missing a streetlight. As he and Ed yelled at one another and the car roared down Central's narrow streets, Roy sat quietly, staring out the window at the cityscape careening past.

* * *

"Can't believe that asshole," Ed grumbled, kicking off his boots so hard that they bounced off the wall, before he stomped down the hall toward the kitchen. "It's not his business, and the next time some girl dumps _him_, I'm gonna point in his face and _laugh_, see how he likes it..."

Shutting the door, Roy sighed. "Edward," he said wearily, "give it a rest, please."

It had been like this all day. Despite Havoc's apologies for his joke, Ed had spent the entire morning meeting glaring across the table at the Lieutenant. Then instead of heading off to the library, as was his usual routine between missions, Ed chose to remain in the office, glowering at the staff and being a general nuisance until Hawkeye firmly suggested that he head over to Intelligence and pick up the latest briefings.

The errand had been a relief until Ed returned with Lieutenant Colonel Dawkins, who was bringing in some restricted documents for the Colonel's attention. Ed parked himself outside Roy's office while the two officers conferred, but when his sharp ears had picked up Dawkins' snide humor about the playboy of Central being dumped by his girlfriend, it had taken Hawkeye and Breda combined to restrain him from kicking the door open and laying into the hapless Lieutenant Colonel. They'd managed to keep him quiet until the Intelligence officer left, but Breda had to be sent to the infirmary afterwards with bites on the hand he'd kept clasped tight over Fullmetal's mouth.

"The fucker was being damn inconsiderate!" Ed whirled about to face him, and Roy had to wonder why the other man was so doggedly defending him. If he hadn't screwed up so badly, he might have appreciated the gesture; as it was, the continued show of support only made him ache with shame.

"They all seem to think it's _funny_," the young man continued, clearly furious. "It makes me sick! Don't those assholes know how much she meant to you?"

Something inside of him snapped. "Apparently she didn't mean enough, or I wouldn't have lost her!" Roy shouted back, startling himself as well as Ed. They both stared at one another down the hall for a long moment, until Roy dropped his head, sighing heavily. "Please Ed," he went on, quieter. "Just let it go."

Ed gave him a look, but surprisingly he did as he was asked. Shuffling his feet, he said, "So what do you wanna eat tonight?"

"Weren't you seeing Julia this evening?" Roy asked him, shrugging off his uniform jacket while he tried to regather his dignity.

"Canceled."

Solicitude was one thing, but this was too much. "Ed..."

Gold eyes glared at him, and Ed's jaw firmed obstinately. "Look, you've been spending too much time alone since Sophie left. It's not healthy. Tonight you're gonna stay up here like a normal person, and be sociable whether you like it or not!"

It was true that he'd been spending many evenings in the basement, working, but Roy didn't particularly want to discuss that. Nor could he explain how difficult it was for him to retain his composure lately when Ed was reclining against him on the sofa. "Ed, I'm fine. It's been miserable, I'll admit it, but I'm a grown man. I can handle this. But if you don't take care with Julia," he added, voice softening, "you could lose her, just like I lost Sophie. I don't want that for you."

"That's my business," Ed told him darkly. But after a moment he grinned. "'Sides, like you told me once, if she's worth being with, she'll understand. So it's not a problem. Unless you just don't wanna be around me..."

Nothing could be farther from the truth. Roy shook his head, defeated. "Of course that's not it."

"Good." Satisfaction radiating from him, Ed turned back toward the kitchen. "So what should I make then?"

He hadn't had much of an appetite for a week. "Anything. I don't know. Surprise me."

Ed's voice floated out from the kitchen amid a clatter of what had to be pans. "Fine, but there better not be any bitching if you don't like it. And if I hear you even _thinking_ about the basement, I'll kick your ass."

Roy tore his gaze away from the door he'd been eyeing, a reluctant smile curving his lips. Trust Ed to know. He always knew, lately; it was uncanny. A peculiar lightness swept over him, a giddy elation that Roy could finally place, now that it was too late. If only...

The smile dropped away. There wasn't any point in wishing.

* * *

When Ed decided to take care of someone, they weren't given any choice in the matter. It was almost as though they had reverted to how it had been before, back when Roy was still recovering from his wound. Ed was kind, but firm, throughout dinner, insisting that Roy eat everything he was given, and then refusing help with the cleanup afterwards. Shoving the evening paper at him, he jerked a thumb toward the living room and glared until Roy did as he was told.

It was with great reluctance that he sat down on the sofa, shaking open the paper and trying to bring his mind under control to focus on the articles. But the mysteries hidden in the news articles and the gossip column held no draw for him tonight. Roy's attention kept drifting, and before long he gave up any attempt to read, letting the pages drape across his knees while he listened to the splash and clink of Ed washing dishes in the other room. Only when the sounds subsided, and Ed's familiar footsteps could be heard approaching did he lift it once again, pretending to be absorbed in the words.

The footsteps paused a few feet away, and Roy wondered if Ed was considering tackling him, or engaging in some of the more physical roughhousing that used to be their norm in the evenings. And for a moment he wondered if that wouldn't be better than this cautious behavior, though he doubted he could handle wrestling; the thought of that muscular body against his sent an involuntary shiver through him. But in the end Ed simply shuffled over, nudging the edge of the paper out of his way as he settled beside him, his shoulder pressed against Roy's even though there was plenty of space at the other end of the sofa.

For a long time, neither one of them said anything. Roy continued to flip through the paper, despite that he wasn't taking in a single word. He couldn't concentrate on anything other than Ed's arm- the automail one, but that didn't matter- brushing against his own, and the warmth building between them. His heart jumped, and he swallowed hard when he realized he could hear a soft patter echoing behind its louder beat.

"I'm glad," Edward said without preamble, breaking the silence, "to see you out here, like this."

Roy let the paper fall, relieved to no longer have to pretend to read it, but also more than a little nervous of conversation. "Like what?"

Ed shrugged, shifting Roy's shoulder along with his own. "This. Sitting on the sofa, reading your paper... acting like you used to. It's been lonely around here."

"I've been here the whole time," Roy pointed out. He'd had neither reason nor desire to go anywhere other than to work or for groceries since Sophie left. Ed made a rude noise, and nudged his shoulder again.

"You've been _hiding_," he told him, "and don't pretend you haven't. You can call it working, but it's still hiding. Think I can't tell the difference?"

He wouldn't make any bet of the sort. "I've had a lot on my mind," he answered, not untruthfully, and the paper rustled as he shifted his knees anxiously.

That seemed to soften Ed a bit. "Yeah, I know. I still remember how it was, after Merisel. But..." He paused, uncertainty weighting his tone, before resuming in a firmer voice. "But you don't have to do this on your own."

"If you're asking me if I want to talk about it, I really don't," Roy told him, because this was one conversation he _couldn't_ have with Ed. "I screwed up. I screwed up, and now I'm paying for it, and I accept that. Talking about it won't change anything." Talking could only make things worse, tempt him to admit things he could never say now. Roy sat rigid, already afraid that he'd said too much, but if Ed noticed his tension, he didn't mention it.

"I've been worried about you, y'know," the young man said softly, and with a flash of pain, Roy felt Ed's heartbeat thumping through his own chest.

"Please don't," Roy murmured, a wrenching sickness in his gut, but the man at his side misunderstood.

"It's not like I can turn it _off_. I'm not used to seeing you like this, all quiet and acting fuckin' defeated and it makes me worry. 'Specially 'cause it's just not _you_, Roy, you're not like that..."

This hurt far worse than he'd imagined it could. "Stop," he whispered, and Ed turned, looked at him, and his eyes opened wide as he suddenly seemed to _see_...

He wanted to escape, but Ed twisted and grabbed his wrist with his flesh hand, holding him in place not by the force of his grip, but by the simple entreaty in that sunlit gaze. "I'm sorry," the young man told him with quiet sincerity, and Roy was caught. In that second he was ready to tell him everything, the words poised on his tongue to spill out in a mad, jumbled confession, but his conscience intervened just in time to silence him. Instead, he tried to dredge up a smile, a smirk, _anything_ for Ed, but the result was a miserable, sad thing.

"Me too," Roy admitted, feeling his heart _squeeze _as Ed smiled back at him. His hold on Roy's arm loosened, slipping down to rest on the back of his hand, their fingers weaving together, and it felt so _right_ that it was hard to remember that he shouldn't succumb to this temptation, that he ought to be disentangling himself, retreating upstairs...

...but Ed was sighing, tucking his head against Roy's shoulder like some contented cat, and in an instant all of his good intentions scattered. He wanted to be strong, to hold to his convictions, but he wanted _this_ so much more. And it was torture, yes, to press his cheek against that bright hair, to taste Ed on every breath, and still Roy couldn't bear to relinquish the slightest sensation. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, committing it all to memory against the day when the young man at his side would be gone, and his heart would beat its solo march once again.

* * *

Slowly, things returned to normal. The pain ebbed, even if the remnants of sorrow still clung to him, but eventually Roy found it easier to smile, and to act more like himself. Their old schedule reasserted itself into the household routine; evenings on the sofa, when Ed wasn't out, companionable arguments and friendly bickering.

But the nights like this, when Ed was with Julia, Roy spent in the basement, working. Instead of resisting his efforts to unravel it, the array now seemed to draw him in, revealing more with every examination, and he traced its lines with increasing surety. It took an effort to drag himself away from the work, but no matter how certain he was of the design, he was still unwilling to push himself to the point where he might make a mistake. Not now, not after he'd come so far.

Still... it was very close to being completed. Eyes burning with weariness from staring at the tiny, intricate lines in the magnifier all evening, Roy set his stylus aside to scrub at his face. He'd accomplished quite a lot tonight; if he judged correctly, there was very little work remaining before it would be complete. After spending so long to get to this point, it hardly seemed possible, and he stared down at his workbench in bemused consternation. A few more days, and then what?

His thoughts were interrupted by the muffled bang of the front door, and he lifted his head in surprise. Ed was home early tonight.

Quickly packing away his tools, he turned off the desklight and made his way up the stairs, blinking as he emerged into the bright glow of the hallway. At the doorway to the living room, Ed turned, regarding him with a frown as he shut the basement door, but the young man refrained from making the expected comment. Roy gave him an apologetic smile, dusting his hands off. "I didn't expect you so soon."

Ed just shrugged, staring at Roy as though he weren't quite seeing him. A crease had formed between his brows, and one corner of his mouth kept twitching downward in a nervous tic. His flesh hand tucked into his pocket as he leaned against the doorframe, he appeared relaxed but Roy noticed the quiver in the automail digits that was an unconscious expression of some deep emotion.

"Is everything alright?" he asked quietly, and Ed shrugged again.

"Yeah, it's..." The young man paused, the worry line deepening, and he shook his head. "Julia wanted to show me something tonight."

All indications were that this was somehow a bad thing, although Roy didn't have any idea what the girl could have shown Ed to cause him to act so strangely. "Should I assume this was unexpected?"

The look Ed threw him was almost a glare. "Depends," he muttered, then sighed. "There's a flat for rent. Over the bookstore, by the bakery. She knows the owner, wanted to me take a look at it before he listed it."

_You knew this was coming_, Roy warned himself even as his mouth went dry, thankful his arms were crossed over his chest, so that his clenched fists were hidden. But he had to wait a moment before speaking, to make sure his voice didn't waver. "How was it?"

"It was good," Ed admitted, although he didn't sound entirely sure. "Plenty of space, lots of windows. Big kitchen. Rent's reasonable. And it's right there by the apothecary I like, with the bookstore underneath..." His voice trailed out, but Roy could complete the thought easily enough. Close to the bakery, close to Julia; it could not have been a more perfect arrangement for the young man.

He'd promised himself that, when this time came, he'd be supportive. However, faced with Ed's imminent departure, Roy's mind scrambled to come up with some argument that would convince him to stay. But it was too late; Ed had chosen his path, and he had no right to try and lead him from it. Every muscle screaming in furious denial, Roy forced his face into a smile for his friend. "Do you think you're going to take it?"

"I don't know. I told her I'd think about it."

He'd been bracing for thanks and goodbyes, and the hesitation surprised him. "Taking your time with this kind of decision makes sense," he admitted, greedily happy for even the short respite, though wretched honestly provoked him to add, "but I have to admit, it sounds like it could be a good place for you."

"In such a hurry to get me out of here?" Ed growled, but his fierce expression didn't quite match the brightness in his eyes. Roy shook his head, as much in amazement as to correct him.

"Of course not," he replied, wanting so badly to touch him and erase the unhappiness he sensed in his friend, to hold him, keep him here. "This is your home for as long as you want it to be."

He didn't think about what he'd said until he saw the strange yearning that flickered across Ed's face, and belatedly Roy remembered the barren apartment he'd moved Ed out of. That place had never been the young man's home, no matter how long he'd lived there. And perhaps that's what Ed had wanted, all along; a place of his own that _could_ be a home. _His_ home.

Roy had opened up his house, brought the young man in and hoped he'd be comfortable, but had Ed ever felt like he belonged here? Did he even _want_ to belong here, in someone else's house? He swallowed hard, guilt boiling up as he realized he couldn't hold Ed back in this, any more than he could kiss him again. He might be dying inside at the thought of Ed leaving, but he'd be damned before he'd deny him something that the young man had denied himself for so long.

Still standing in the doorway, Ed passed a hand over his face, looking absolutely miserable and resolution or not, Roy couldn't stand to see him this way. Two strides and he was in front of the smaller man, one hand already wrapping around his shoulder in a gentle grip. Startled gold eyes met his, and the smile that curved his lips wasn't forced at all this time. "Whatever you choose, you'll have my support," he told him. "I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't miss you, should you decide to take the flat. But if moving on is what's best for you, then that's what I want. You've lived nearly all of your life for other people. It's time you did what was right for _you_."

Roy didn't think he'd ever seen Edward Elric speechless before. Brilliant eyes opened as wide as they could go, mouth caught in a grimace, Ed looked like he was struggling to catch his breath. But he reached out, catching Roy's extended arm in a such a hard grip that he wondered if he'd have a bruise there. Not that he cared; looking down into Ed's painful expression, Roy would have borne far worse. "Thanks," the young man finally rasped out, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I... thanks."

"It's what friends do," Roy reminded him.

"Friends. Yeah." Ed gave a rough laugh, still clinging to Roy's arm. Abruptly he straightened, lifting a gaze once again filled with steel. "I'll remember."

A squeeze and Ed dropped his arm, Roy following suit and stepping back to allow the other man room to move. The young man still seemed worried, but there was confidence there that hadn't been before; Ed never took long to rebound. Mismatched feet carried him toward the stairs, and the blond braid whipped about his shoulders as Ed turned his head to fix Roy with a strangely intense stare.

"I told Julia I'd make a decision by Friday," he said quietly, but the words carried an unnatural weight. "So I... I'll be able to tell you then."

"Alright." Heart aching, Roy watched the young man move heavily up the stairs, not looking back but taking deliberate steps forward. Could he be so brave, if those same steps carried Ed away from him?

_You won't lose him_, his mind insisted reasonably. _No matter where he lives, he's still your friend. Location and residence, even women or wives, won't ever change that._

But his heart still cried betrayal as he listened to Ed's uneven tread down the hall, and the emphatic click of a closing door.

* * *

Three days. Three days, and a lifetime, until Ed's decision.

He tried his best to go about his days as usual, forcing himself to remain pleasant and calm, but his stomach was a snapping, roiling mass of anxiety. No matter how he tried to distract himself, Roy's mind kept coming back to Ed, and the likelihood that the companionship he'd enjoyed with the other man for nearly a year would be over in less than a week's time. Thinking about it roused a dreadful, empty sense of loss even worse than what he'd experienced when Sophie had left him, and although Roy tried hard to fight back the jealous want, it crept around his barriers and gnawed at his heart.

Ed spent the intervening evenings at home, and with the end so close, Roy couldn't keep his distance as he'd done before. He sat on the sofa with the young man without hesitation, eyes closed as he leaned back against Ed's warmth, trying to memorize the shift of muscles, the breadth of his shoulders. He talked, teased, reminisced, grasping at everything he'd come to love about Ed's presence in his home.

But Ed himself was subdued, withdrawn. He never pulled away from Roy's company but he offered little in return, choosing more often to simply listen rather than debate, staring back at him with eyes shadowed with sadness. It was answer enough for the question plaguing Roy, and even as he reached out to Ed he was building walls up around his heart, fearful of the loneliness to come.

Friday morning finally arrived, and Roy woke from a fractured sleep with a cramping, sick stomach. The bedsheets were wet with sweat, and he stripped them from the bed, throwing them in the corner before stumbling to the shower and shivering beneath the cold spray. Dressing in his uniform felt like girding himself for battle, and once the last button was fastened Roy finally felt brave enough to face the day before him. He left his room, descending the stairs and heading for the kitchen as though walking to his own execution.

But the room was empty.

So was the living room and, when he finally couldn't help checking, Ed's bedroom as well. His housemate's clothes and belongings were still there, which helped to loosen a fearful knot in Roy's chest, but the young man himself was nowhere to be seen. Another quick inspection of the house revealed a plate in the sink, as well as an empty mug, and Roy stared down at the evidence of Ed's early departure with a lump in his throat.

By the time Havoc arrived to pick him up, his masks were firmly in place and Roy was hidden behind an icy calm demeanor. He somehow managed to reply to the Lieutenant's jokes on the drive in, but the coolness of his responses quickly curbed all conversation, and the silence that overtook them suited Roy fine.

He expected Ed would barge into the morning meeting late, grumbling excuses and juggling his reports and a bag of pastries, like he'd done so many times in the past. But no interruptions appeared, and it was his own distraction that dragged the procedures out longer than normal. By the time things finally wrapped up it was nearly ten, and well past when Ed should have been in. Roy waited until everyone had dispersed to their duties before pulling Hawkeye aside, and asking if she had heard from Fullmetal that morning.

"He requested a personal day," she told him, flipping through a stack of reports on her desk. "Weren't you aware?"

Roy thought of the empty house, the dishes in the sink. "No," he said. "And it would have been nice if I were informed of the goings-on of my own staff. When did he request today off?"

"Wednesday morning, sir." He had her full attention now, weighing his reactions. "He hasn't made any other requests recently, so I didn't see any reason to refuse it. Is something wrong?"

There really wasn't, not that he could explain, and he sighed. "No, Lieutenant. I simply would have appreciated knowing." Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he'd made a tactical error, confirmed when Hawkeye frowned at him.

"Edward didn't tell you?" she asked with a meaningful tilt to her brows.

"Clearly not," he snapped, more irritated with himself that her, but his angry outburst didn't faze the Lieutenant in the slightest. Turning back to the reports, she nodded, taking up her pen and signing the top one.

"I'll make sure I inform you of any future requests, sir" she told him coolly, and Roy's face reddened. Without replying, he spun on his heel and stalked back to his office, only just resisting the urge to slam the door childishly at his back.

The day dragged on in slow motion. He made himself walk down to the commissary at lunchtime, on the off chance that Ed might show up for a cheap meal, but the young man's distinctive bright hair wasn't visible in the crowd. Buying a sandwich that he didn't really want, Roy trudged back up to his office, sequestering himself once more and envisioning a return to a house stripped of Ed's belongings and finding, if he was lucky, only a note left on the table. The thought did nothing for his mood.

That afternoon he snarled at Fuery for making too much noise with his new radio transmitter, and then all but chased Breda out of the office for making wisecracks. Falman quickly remembered a task he'd neglected across the base and hurried off, leaving Havoc huddling in on himself beside the file cabinet, hoping to escape notice. Irritated with his staff and disgusted with himself, Roy gave in this time and did throw the door hard against its frame this time as he stomped into his office.

About an hour later, someone tapped on his door. When he growled a reply, Hawkeye entered, ignoring the tense atmosphere, and shut the door quietly at her back. Roy didn't look at her, still trying to pour all of his aggravation into his work, but after a few minutes the silence grew overbearing. Glancing up, he saw that she was standing at attention before his desk, watching him with dark eyes.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" he said curtly, wishing she'd just ask and be gone so that he could get back to his sulk.

"I thought you might need something, sir," she replied.

Scratching out a brusque approval on the form he'd just finished reading, Roy set it aside and picked up the next request. "I don't recall asking for anything."

"Perhaps someone to talk to, sir?"

He laid his pen down, and gave her a wry, angry smirk that was usually enough to send its target on their way. "Was there something you wanted to say to me, Lieutenant?"

But Hawkeye had never been intimidated by him. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" He made a curt 'go ahead' gesture, and her posture relaxed slightly. "Is something wrong between you and Edward?"

Astute officers were generally something he considered a boon to his command, but at times like now, Roy wished they didn't actually _care_ about him enough to turn that intelligence his way. The smirk twisted, turned bitter. "Now really, Lieutenant, how would I know? I haven't seen him since last night to ask."

Hawkeye didn't say anything, only continued to stare impassively at him. Willing to outwait him, he realized, and he'd never been able to dissuade her before. Anger wouldn't get him anywhere either, and he leaned back in his chair, trying to let the frustration he felt dissipate into the air. "He's moving out," he said, attempting to keep the rancor from his voice. "At least, I think he is. He was supposed to tell me today."

He heard her shift slightly as she considered this. "And you don't want him to go?"

God, couldn't he have a self-absorbed imbecile for a First Lieutenant? Just for today? "No," he grumbled reluctantly. "I don't."

"Have you told him this?"

Roy thought back, to the day Ed had first brought up leaving. He wondered if his protest at that time counted, then decided it probably didn't. "Not for a while," he admitted, "but I did tell him he was welcome to stay as long as he liked."

"That's not really the same thing," Hawkeye murmured, then sighed. "Roy," she said, and that got his attention because she _never_ used his name at work. "You need to tell him."

She was looking at him, fond exasperation in her eyes, and Roy felt ridiculously out of his depth. "What?" he exclaimed. "Riza, this is his choice. I'm not going to take it away from him."

"I doubt you could," she replied, one corner of her mouth curling into a smile he was certain was mocking him. "Roy, you're not _ordering_ him to stay. You'd simply be giving him all the facts. Do you think he hasn't considered your feelings on the matter?"

The truth was, he had no idea. "It's Ed's decision to make. I can't see where my feelings enter into it."

"That's because you're an idiot. Sir." She smiled, this time with honest affection. "Ed worries about you nearly as much as you worry about him. I think he'd like to know. And," she added, with a rather severe stare, "you're allowed to want things, Roy. It's only wrong if you aren't honest."

He stared at her for a moment, before breaking into shaky laughter. _Honesty_. That had been his problem all along, hadn't it? With Sophie, with himself- and most of all, with Ed. He shook his head, grudgingly willing to allow that maybe wise First Lieutenants were worth the trouble, after all. "I suppose I should tell him," he conceded, though he didn't bother to add that his confession would have to include far more than she was assuming. To his surprise, the decision made him feel slightly better, and he reached out for the next paper, only to pause as she shook her head.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, sir," she suggested. "You've been working very hard, and I think the office can survive the next few hours without you." Another slow smile crossed her face. "You're no good to us like this anyway."

A warm rush of gratitude filled Roy. "Thank you, Riza," he told her, ignoring the jab, and she saluted, still smiling encouragement.

"Do your best, sir."

* * *

It was almost four when he arrived home, and as soon as he'd kicked off his shoes Roy hurried upstairs, barely remembering to knock before pushing open the door to Ed's room. It looked exactly as it had that morning, empty of life, but still filled with Ed's possessions, and a faint thrill of relief ran through him. It hadn't happened yet. He wasn't too late.

But Ed still wasn't home, and Roy had no idea where he could be. The question burned in his mind as he crossed the hall to change clothes. Was Ed even now signing the papers for the apartment? Or perhaps out at the shops, getting things he'd need for the flat? Roy's hands clenched hard. Why wasn't Ed back yet?

Was he making love to Julia, in the empty rooms of his new home?

The thought stopped him cold, and Roy closed his eyes, tilting his head back and forcing himself to take several long, slow breaths. It was pointless to let his imagination wander in this way; Ed could be blowing bubbles with Elysia just as easily as any of the other things he'd speculated. Tormenting himself with what-ifs would only make him ill with worry and, running a hand through his hair, Roy resolutely pushed the thoughts away. He needed a distraction.

There were only two diversions he could think of that would effectively keep his mind from running in circles, and Ed would approve of neither of them. But in the end Roy descended into the basement, leaving the door at the top of the stairs cracked, and hoped he'd chosen the lesser of evils.

Flipping the desklamp on, he examined his project, now nearly finished. The delicate whorls were almost invisibly small, and nestled among them were a multitude of tiny symbols, painstakingly carved into the substance that used to be wax coating the ring. There were only a few left to place, and the design would be complete, and he could move on to the next step. Pleased, despite the anxiety that still fluttered behind his ribcage, Roy took up his stylus, pushed the magnifier back into position, and began carving.

As it always did while he worked on the array, time seemed to disappear. There were only the lines to follow, each so precisely placed, and as familiar to Roy now as the strict geometry of his personal array. It was a work of genius- as much art as science- and within every elegant element of the design, Roy could feel Ed's touch, brilliant and indomitable. They were the lines that connected him and the young man who'd drawn them, and with each careful addition to the circle Roy fancied he could hear the thrum of Ed's pulse, murmuring in quiet tandem with his own.

One last graceful ogee, and Roy stopped, blinking eyes that ached and burned as he stared down at the ring in surprise. His work was finished.

He studied it, scrupulously chasing each line with his eyes until he was certain it was right. It was strange, realizing that the hardest part was done. He'd prepared a small vat specifically for this stage, and it was with a sense of proud satisfaction that he cautiously placed the ring in the holder he'd made, dipping it in so that the base was submerged, while the stone sat, winking and safe, above the chemical. All that was left now was to wait, and let the acid permanently etch the design into the metal.

He checked the progress of the etching every so often, and it didn't take long before the acid had cut deep enough into the ring's base. Pulling it from its bath, he dipped it into another vat that he'd set up, filled with a baking soda mixture, and waited for the foam to die down before carefully cleaning it to stop the reaction. A quick rinse, then a hastily sketched array transmuted the waxy substrate to an indefinable lump beneath the silver, and Roy picked up the ring with held breath, turning it over in his hand.

Flipping the magnifier into position once more, he studied the array now permanently imprinted on in the inside of the ring, in the metal that backed a topaz cabochon nearly the color of Ed's eyes, double checking that there had been no errors. But it was perfect; Ed's array, the array that had brought him back from the edge of death, now set into a ring that would forever remind Roy of the surprising, unique man who'd created it. And if he ever needed that array, to use it...

Knuckling his eyes, he sat back in his seat, muscles smarting with stiffness, and wondered how long he'd been down there. Hours, perhaps, absorbed in his work. But he hadn't heard the front door in all that time; had he been too absorbed in his labors? Surely Ed would be home by now. Pocketing the ring, Roy cleaned up his workspace and turned off the light, feeling oddly light now that his work was complete.

But when he pushed open the basement door, he was greeted by darkness, the house still and empty. He was alone, and he fumbled the hall light on, and saw that that the clock read nearly nine o'clock. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd worked through dinner, but Roy only felt the dismay that was creeping back into his heart. Still out. Ed... He probably wasn't coming home at all.

He'd been so optimistic, after talking to Riza. But what good was his honesty, his confessions, if there were only the walls to hear them?

Somehow he marshaled the resolve to turn toward the kitchen, moving as stiff as an automaton as he prepared himself a light dinner from leftovers in the icebox, and made himself eat. Wherever he was, Ed would want him to take care of himself and as little as Roy cared at that moment, with the array fresh in his mind he couldn't bring himself to dishonor the life the other man had given him.

He moved to the sofa after the meal, holding the newspaper in his lap out of habit, though he made no move to read it. Instead, he let his mind wander back over memories of the past year, the arguments, the laughter, the closeness they'd shared. The richness of joy in those memories was astounding to him, and he would gladly sacrifice his pride to hear Ed's laughter. His house already felt emptier than it had ever been, without the young man's overwhelming personality crowding the halls and echoing from the kitchen. _Will he miss the time he spent here, once he's gone? Will he miss _me_?_

At eleven, Roy finally gave up his vigil. He laid the paper aside, still folded as he'd found it, and turned off the lamp before moving slowly up the shadowed stairs. Undressing in the dark, he turned back his bed and slid into the sheets, feeling the emptiness of the room across the hall in every bone. The streetlights below painted his ceiling with yellow light, a glow that could only lead his thoughts in one direction, and he shut his eyes tight against that reminder. Lying still and quiet, praying for sleep to take him away, Roy wondered how he could ever again fit into his old life, after it had been so thoroughly filled by Ed's presence.


	8. Chapter 8

Had he been asleep, he would never have heard the soft click of the front door.

But to Roy, sleepless and bereft, the sound struck him like a blow and his entire body reacted, jerking beneath the sheets. Scarcely daring to breathe, he listened for the familiar footsteps coming up the stairs, the sound of the door across the hall. However, nothing more came, and he clenched his fists in the sheets, thinking, _he's gone to get a drink before bed, he'll be up soon._

Every sense honed to attention, to _Ed_, he still only just caught the sound of the back door.

For a moment Roy lay there, dazed with exhaustion and unhappiness, swamped with confusion, inventing and discarding reasons why Ed would go out to the backyard at this time of night. Why Ed had been gone all day, why he'd clearly been avoiding him, why he'd gone back on his word to give him an answer...

After nearly half an hour of roiling anxiety, he sat up, shoving the bedding aside and hauling himself from the bed. This had to stop, one way or another. If it was over, fine, but let it be over _now_, not hanging on in this interminable limbo that had been lingering for days. It wasn't bravery, but weariness and a certain fatalism that sent him down the stairs, padding through the kitchen to the back door, where he rested one hand on the doorknob and paused, just for a second, to hold onto his last moment of uncertainty before stepping outside.

The summer air was warm on his bare skin, even this late, though he shivered at its touch all the same. Peaking high in the sky, the moon was little more than a sliver of light in the sky, casting just enough light to shimmer off the pale fall of hair down Ed's back where he sat on the top step of the porch. His shoulders were hunched, and although he didn't turn when Roy let the door swing quietly shut, his head lifted just slightly, a tacit awareness of his company. "Hey," he muttered, his voice rough and barely loud enough to be heard despite the hush of the night.

His own voice had dried up completely. He'd wanted this settled, an end to the ceaseless worrying, but now that he was finally with Ed, Roy couldn't speak a word. However, he was spared the attempt as Ed sighed, still looking out over the darkened garden.

"I've been really happy here," he said in a low tone, hands folding beneath his chin. "This past year. Never expected it."

Throat aching, Roy sank down on the step beside him, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. "I'm glad you've been happy," he said softly. "I've always wanted that for you."

Ed made a little humming sound of agreement, his bangs hiding his face. It made Roy want to push them aside, to see his face, although that led to other thoughts as well; the way that strong jawline fit against his palm, the sound Ed would make if he kissed the corner of his mouth... Pulling himself back to the present, he cleared his throat, forcing out the words. "I was thinking... even if you're moving out. My house is always open to you. I... Keep the key."

For a moment, he thought the other man was going to turn him down. But Ed gave a choking little laugh, tilting his head to the side to give him a pained smile as though he'd said something cruel, yet funny. "I turned down the flat, Roy."

His face must have given him away, going slack and incredulous, his breath drawing in sharp. "You did?" So focused on disaster, he'd never given much weight to the thought that Ed might actually _stay._ "But how... was it... was Julia very disappointed?"

The smile on Ed's face, which hadn't been terribly happy from the start, seemed to fall apart. "Yeah. She was a little upset."

"I'm sorry," Roy told him, but Ed shook his head.

"I'm not."

There was silence then. Even the sounds of cars had quieted, as the city slept around them. Near the back of the yard a cricket sang once, a shrill, shivering call that hung in the darkness.

"I didn't want you to go," Roy finally admitted, wanting to close the strange distance the night had put between them.

He felt Ed stir at his side. "I know you didn't." A pause. "I had to make a choice."

"I would never ask you to stay just because I-" he began, but the words stuttered out. Ed was shaking his head again, that faintly wry smile back again.

"You really don't get it, do you?" he asked, and as it was apparent he wasn't actually looking for an answer, Roy didn't reply.

They sat quietly for a few more minutes, listening to the murmurs of the night. Eventually Roy tilted his head down, staring at the steps. "Where were you today?" he asked, and Ed shrugged.

"Out. Around. I... I needed to think. So I took a walk, went down to the river. It's a good place to think, reminds me of Riesembul. Especially at night... Been going down there a lot lately."

All those late nights... "Weren't you staying with Julia most nights?"

"Are you kidding?" The young man snorted in disbelief. "You don't really think... Fuck, _no_, Roy. She's not... we never..." He trailed off, but his meaning was clear enough. Roy didn't think he'd ever felt such relief.

"Hey... can I ask you something?" Ed nudged up against him, and he nodded.

"Of course."

"After Ishval..." he said haltingly, and Roy drew his head back in surprise, "after what happened there. What you had to do. Did you ever want... to be close to something innocent, after that? To feel something clean?"

The non sequitur threw him into confusion for a moment, but Roy had known Ed long enough to understand that sometimes he applied an oblique, circular logic to his conversations. And despite his reticence to talk about that portion of his past, he was disinclined to shrug off the subject as he normally would. The need to touch something pure, to hope that it could wipe some of your sins away... those memories were bitter, but he wouldn't deny their truth. "Yes," he whispered. "I remember that feeling."

"Yeah." Ed stared out into the darkness, unseeing. "I broke up with Julia today."

The admission came like a smack in the face, completely unexpected, and Roy gaped at the man sitting calmly beside him. "What? You... I thought..." He couldn't find any words to explain, they were too chaotic to make any sense. "Ed... why?"

The young man was silent for a long moment. Finally he sighed, head hanging low between his shoulders, as though he wasn't able to support its weight. "I couldn't be the person she wanted. And she would never be what I needed."

Roy took a moment to let that sink in. "How did she take it?"

A shrug bumped his shoulder once again. "She took it alright," Ed ventured, then stopped, shook his head savagely. "No," he corrected himself. "Fuck... she cried her goddamn eyes out. I felt like _shit_, and I deserved it." His shoulders trembled, and he threw his head back, staring up into the sky, blinking hard. "Made me cry too. I never meant to hurt her. But when I figured out... I had to. I _had_ to. It was the only thing that was fair." He scrubbed his eyes with the back of one arm, voice gone ragged. "Only thing that ever felt worse than this was when I saw what I'd done to Al..."

He couldn't resist reaching out to the young man, clasping his shoulder in commiseration though what Roy truly wanted was to pull Ed into his arms, stroke the pain from his forehead. "I... I really don't understand. If you had asked me as little as a few days ago, I'd have wagered you'd be married before the end of summer."

"I wouldn't... Roy," Ed lifted his head, turning to face him with a small frown. "I _couldn't_. She isn't someone I could be with like that."

It made no sense. "I don't-" he began again, and Ed sighed.

"She's innocent. I mean, _completely_. I told you once, I've never met anyone like her before. And it felt really good, being around someone like that. Someone who couldn't even _imagine_ all the bad shit I've seen. And done. Made me feel like a normal person, almost."

Roy nodded, finally understanding the earlier comment, as well as Ed's attraction to the girl. But the rest, to leave her, give up that comfort... "So why would you break up?"

"If I stayed," Ed said slowly, leaning into Roy's touch, "I'd kill what I loved about her. That purity. Roy, she doesn't even know how I got _this_." Automail fingers curled, clicking softly, the moonlight gathering on its planes with gentle luminescence. "She thinks it was an accident, and I could never bring myself to tell her the truth. She couldn't deal with the shit in my past, I don't even _want_ her to, and if I told her... How could I stay with her, when I can't even tell her about myself?" A bitter light flared in his eyes. "Life fucks everyone out of their innocence eventually, but I won't be the one who does it to her. I've ruined enough people."

"Ed, you haven't," Roy protested, hating the frustration and self-loathing he heard in the young man's voice. But Ed rode over him, refusing to meet his eyes.

"And she's too young for something this serious. Only nineteen- she's got her whole goddamn _life_ ahead of her. And fuck, I know, I'm not much older than that... but damn it Roy, I'm at least twice as old as anyone else my age. All the shit I've been through... It wouldn't be fair. Not to either one of us. I couldn't confide in her, she'd never know me... and what the hell kind of relationship would that be?"

"But love..." Roy whispered, even as his heart shuddered at the traitorous word. "You loved her."

Ed sat very still, before turning slightly, his knee brushing against Roy's thigh as those eyes, bright even in the moon's sallow glow, fixed him with a resolute stare. "Yeah. But she wasn't ever someone I could have, not in the way you're talking about. And I... I don't want that with her anyway."

Something in Ed's gaze held Roy mute. There was sadness there, and regret, but also determination. And something else- something his heart fluttered to recognize, but his mind would not accept. Something that drew him back to a different evening, under a different moon, and a world dipped in silver...

"I don't want something that isn't real," Ed told him, and the night was contracting down to single, small points; those twin golden eyes, the press of a knee into his leg, the small, calloused hand creeping into his own. "I don't want to be with someone who doesn't even know me."

Roy's heart tightened until every beat made it feet like it was going to burst. All conscious thought had been stripped from him; he simply _reacted_, clenching tight on the hand in his as an anchor, the other reaching blindly out to cup the back of Ed's neck, pulling him forward. Their mouths met in an uncoordinated clash, desperate and needy, fumbling to find a rhythm yet too starved to slow down. It never entered into Roy's mind to _ask_, but Ed's response- just as frantic as his own- was answer enough.

It was glorious, delirious. Everything was broken into fragments- the heat of Ed's mouth against his, the wet curl of tongue on tongue, the bruising force of kiss after kiss. Teeth scraped hard against Roy's lip, pain sparking amidst the sweetness and Ed tilted his head, tongue darting out to lap at the injury.

They eventually had to part to breathe, foreheads still touching, afraid to separate any further. Ed's fingers curled possessively in his hair, and his own hands had found their way around the other man's waist, beneath his shirt, splaying across warm skin. Roy's mind was finally starting to catch up with what was happening, and tremors climbed up his back until he was clinging to Ed and certain he was going to die from the raw need spiraling through him, a chemical reaction that was slowly devouring him.

Ed panted against his chin, and Roy drank in those little breaths greedily. "I don't care," Ed stammered, voice as thin and unsteady as Roy felt. "Don't care if I'm weird, I don't _care_. I just want- _this_, want _you_, can't even _think_ about anything else..."

Somehow, he found a voice. "Yours," trailing kisses along the young man's jaw, whispering beside his ear, "I couldn't... no one else... _Ed_..." Coherence was beyond him; it was a herculean effort simply to form words at all, but Ed moaned softly, breathing his name back to him as he tugged Roy's face up, bringing their lips together once more.

He lost time, sitting there on the porch with Ed, kissing, touching, drowning in sensation. It was more than Roy had ever dared hope for, frightening in its intensity, but after suppressing his desire for so long its liberation overwhelmed any obstacle his conscious mind might have thrown up. And it felt so good, to finally be allowed this- the stroke of tongue on palate, teeth grazing the tender spots of neck and shoulder, the indistinct, pleased sounds the young man made as his lips worked down his neck.

"Are you sure?" Roy murmured to him at some point, after they'd slowed, calmed. One finger traced along the ridge of collarbone, and Ed hummed deep in his throat. "This isn't conventional, and you and I... we aren't..."

Ed snorted, punching him lightly in the shoulder and grinning. "Weren't you listening, you shit?"

But Roy held his eyes, his mood abruptly serious. "I want you to be sure."

A sigh wafted from the other man, and for a moment Roy was frightened that his hopes were drifting away with it. Then Ed shook his head, his smile returning. "Idiot. You really think I haven't thought about this?" The look in his eyes sharpened, growing cautious, and he added, "What about you?"

Roy let out a mirthless chuckle. "Absolutely. Sophie told me I was in love with someone else..." He paused, not having intended to say so much, but Ed was watching him expectantly, and he couldn't stop now. "There's no one who has ever meant so much to me."

Ed responded by pulling him in for another kiss, slow and deep, and when he finally let go there was a look of tenderness on his face that Roy had only ever seen directed at Alphonse. "You always seemed happy, with all those women, and as long as you were happy..." He was silent for a moment. "I just wanted to know that you were okay, and to be around you. Never did put it together, but then you kissed me... But there was Sophie, and then Julia too, and you never dated guys..."

"Have you?" Roy asked, and Ed laughed.

"Fuck no! Told you before, I'm not gay."

"But then this..."

"I don't know," Ed admitted. "This is different. I mean, yeah, you're a guy, and I'm a guy, and... I don't know, Roy. Just know that as long as it's _us_, I don't mind."

"If we're... _together_," Roy said, tasting the word, appreciating its implications, "then what... how do..." He stopped, face starting to redden, a terrible sense of inadequacy creeping over him. "I mean, I don't know if I can..."

"Hey." Hands, both warm and cool, cupped his face, a metal thumb gently stroking his cheek. Calm, gold eyes met his, and Ed gave him a look that silenced him instantly. "It doesn't matter. We'll figure it out, okay? And if it doesn't happen..." He shrugged, unconcerned. "All I want is to be with you."

"Yes," Roy whispered, eyes prickling with emotion until he closed them, felt Ed's lips ghosting over his lids. "Just the two of us."

"Just us," Ed agreed. "Just us."

* * *

They dithered in the hallway at the top of the stairs, hands still clasped, their motions tentative and uncertain. A quick whisper, another caress, a kiss, and Ed rubbed his eyes, smiling apologetically. "Got to sleep," he murmured, making no move to pull away. "Gonna fall over where I stand."

Roy caught his chin, tipping his head back and capturing his mouth in a deep kiss, until they were both sagging into one another for support. Ed hummed contentedly against his shoulder, and Roy turned his head to kiss his cheek.

"Stay with me tonight?" he whispered, and Ed's hand tightened on his side.

"Yeah."

They crossed the threshold into the bedroom, solemn, and a little nervous, Ed's arm still curled around his waist, and Roy marveled that the younger man didn't seem anxious at all. Despite that he couldn't bear the thought of letting Ed go, the thought that he was going to lie down so intimately with another man had his heart thrumming so hard that he doubted he'd sleep a wink. _But I want this... I want this._

The warmth of Ed's arm slipped away, and for a moment Roy thought he had changed his mind. But a quick flutter of fear pulsed through him as he realized that Ed was about to undress for bed.

_I want this, I want him... why is this so strange to me?_

There was a soft hiss of cloth as Ed pulled his shirt over his head, glancing about guiltily before letting it drop onto the floor in a rumpled heap, and for all his trepidation, Roy couldn't help but stare. Sun-kissed skin stretched taut and smooth over firm planes of muscle, rippling as the young man moved. His broad chest was almost hairless, but as Roy's eyes traveled down, it thickened into a clear, if thin, path descending to the button of the leather pants which Ed was thumbing open...

Roy jerked his gaze back up to Ed's face, feeling a flush burning his cheeks. It was ridiculous- he _knew_ it was stupid, knew he wanted to be with Ed... only he'd never really considered beyond kissing him and now Ed was in his room, shedding his clothing, and though he knew in theory what lay beneath those sinfully tight leather pants, he'd never seen, or even imagined save for a very few conflicted instances. Not knowing where to look, he shuffled closer to the bed, thankful beyond measure that he had already dressed for bed earlier, because he wasn't sure if he'd have been able to disrobe before the other man.

"Roy." Ed's voice was oddly hushed in the room, yet insistent. "Is this okay?"

He made himself look up. Ed's hands were on his waistband, button undone, but the pants still clung to his hips. Gold eyes flooded with concern met his, and the young man took a cautious step forward, as though Roy were some wild thing that would bolt if startled. "If it bothers you," Ed continued, a line drawing between his brows, "we don't have to do this. I'll be right across the hall, I promise I'm not going anywhere..."

"Don't." Not hesitating, Roy reached out to him, pulling Ed to him and burying his face in his hair. "I want you to stay."

"If you're sure," Ed muttered, fingers skating delicately over Roy's ribs.

Roy took a deep breath, feeling his nerves flare once more as Ed's hands kindled a different kind of heat near the base of his spine. "Yes," he said softly. "It's just so strange, to know what I want, and yet have no idea of what to do with it- with you." He pressed a kiss to the younger man's crown, shivering as those clever fingers continued to map him.

"Not so different," Ed pointed out, a grin in his voice. "You've never known what to do with me."

Some of the nervousness seemed to loosen at that, and Roy laughed, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed, arms still looped around the other man. "Quite true." He rested his cheek against the chiseled contours of Ed's stomach, feeling fingers scratching gently along his hairline in response, and smiled into that smooth skin. "Why me, Ed?" he whispered. "Why would you want someone like me?"

The fingers never ceased moving, from his hair down to his ear, tracing delicately along its rim, but Roy felt the sigh that trembled through Ed's frame. "Because I can't live without you," the young man finally replied in a voice almost as faint as his own. "When I thought you were going to die... I don't even like to think about that. And the closer I get to you, the more I want to be _with_ you and... fuck, that sounds selfish..."

"No." Greatly daring, Roy turned his head, kissing along the pale line of hair that crossed the other man's stomach, heart leaping at Ed's hushed intake of breath. "Come to bed."

After his attack of nerves a few minutes ago, Roy had thought this would be awkward. But Ed stepped back, shucking off his pants and climbing in next to him before he had a chance to think about things like gender and convention. Then warmth and fumbling to get comfortable, just like anyone he'd ever lain down with, and Roy found himself relaxing. Legs tangled with his as Ed wriggled in closer, not seeming to want an inch of space between them and he obliged, pulling the young man's head onto his shoulder and folding him in his arms. A sigh gusted across his chest, an arm flung around his waist as Ed melted against him, bonelessly content.

It wasn't strange at all. It was just Ed, whom he'd loved since before he'd ever recognized the feeling, and Roy didn't want him anywhere but here, in his arms.

* * *

A gentle, rhythmic sound tugged Roy upwards into the morning, bringing a haze of confusion to his sleep-addled mind. Not fully awake, he slowly became aware of little things first: the extra warmth of the bed, the unyielding lump beneath his pillow, hair in his mouth. Annoyed, he moved to wipe the offending strands from his lips but paused, feeling the satiny brush of skin beneath his fingertips.

For numerous and complex reasons, Roy had never brought many lovers to his bed, and waking up next to another body never failed to leave him disconcerted. Blinking slowly into awareness, his eyes passed over the sunkissed vista of skin that he was curled around, and sudden recognition slammed him headlong into full consciousness. Next to him, Ed slumbered on, sprawled on his back with one ankle hooked possessively over his, cheek resting against Roy's pillow which had been drawn up onto his shoulder. It was peculiarly comfortable.

None of his experience had prepared him for a morning such as this, and Roy lay still and quiet, wondering what came next. Women generally seemed to want cuddling and sweet nothings when they awoke, but he wasn't at all certain if Ed would appreciate that sort of thing. And he had no idea what a man would want from another man in the wake of such an emotional confession. Gruff avoidance of the topic? Coffee? Had he been fooling himself that he could do this?

But how could he bear to fail?

He didn't have long to fret over this however, as Ed shifted beneath his hand, yawning hugely and rumbling deep in his chest as he woke. Those bright gold eyes opened, almost a second sunrise, and as they settled on him and a strangely shy smile split Ed's face, all of Roy's worries faded into nothing. There was no embarrassment or awkward regret in the young man's expression, only quiet pleasure. "Hey," Ed rasped in a rough, morning kind of voice.

"Hey," Roy replied, smiling in spite of his insecurities. Really, it was hard to feel any discomfort when Ed was looking at him like that, as though he'd found something unexpectedly good in front of him. His arm, draped over Ed's chest, tightened and pulled him just a little closer, and the young man made a happy sound in his throat.

Blinking lazily, humor quirked the corner of Ed's mouth. "My hair's in your mouth," he murmured, and Roy hurriedly brushed it away.

"Sorry," he muttered, and Ed gave a rusty chuckle.

"Idiot." He pulled his arm from beneath Roy's pillow and rolled over, arms splayed on either side of the other man's head. His hair hung loose, shading both of their faces within a tent of gold as he dipped his head closer, stealing a quick kiss. The last of Roy's reticence disappeared at the gesture, and he wound his arms around Ed's shoulders, even the automail warm against his skin as he tugged the young man down again, bringing their mouths together once more; slow this time, lingering, taking his time and drinking in every delicious sound Ed made.

A noise rather like a chimera chewing tin cans rumbled up from Ed's stomach, and the two of them stopped abruptly, Roy's eyes gone wide and startled while the other man colored furiously. "Sorry," Ed mumbled, eyes averted and cheeks absolutely flaming. "Forgot to eat dinner last night..."

Roy couldn't help it; he laughed, so hard and helpless that he ended up pulling Ed down on top of him, while the young man growled and flailed with embarrassment. "I suppose I'd better feed you then," he said once he'd recovered his breath, and Ed grumbled something in response that he couldn't begin to make out.

Rolling off of him and onto his feet, the young man frowned over his shoulder. "You don't have to take care of me, you know, I'm not some woman you brought home with you."

Beneath the bristling attitude, Roy caught just the faintest edge of something else, a defensiveness that made him wonder if brash, brave Ed himself wasn't just a little bit nervous this morning as well. Pushing himself up, he met Ed's hard stare and gave a little half-smirk.

"First of all," he said sternly, "for your information, very seldom have I ever brought women home with me. I don't share my bed with just anyone. And second..." He rose from the bed and caught Ed by the hips, tilting his head down to press another kiss to those scowling lips. His voice was surprisingly husky when he pulled back. "Second, I know very well what you are. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Ed blinked up at him, and Roy had a moment to marvel that perhaps _he_ was the one catching the unpredictable alchemist by surprise this time. "Yeah," he eventually ground out, a hint of the smile from earlier returning. "Well. Good. In that case, I'm gonna go make some coffee. You can make waffles."

"I'm right behind you," Roy told him, pulling him in for another kiss before reluctantly letting him go at last. _We have all the time we could want now_, he reminded himself, listening to Ed stomp down the stairs and curse as his foot hit the cold tiles in the foyer. Time to touch and kiss without guilt or reservation, time to learn whether or not they could make this strange attraction work. Work that was, no doubt, going to be as difficult as deciphering that array, but Roy was certain that it would be even more rewarding in the end.

And speaking of the array...

Digging in the pocket of the pants he'd worn the day before, Roy pulled out the finished ring. The topaz gleamed like honey in the morning sun, or the lucent beauty of Ed's eyes and with a small smile of satisfaction, he slipped it onto the third finger of his left hand. The lines of the array pressed against his skin, rough beneath the unfamiliar weight of the ring. It was the fulfillment of a promise he'd made to himself, but looking at it now, it was so much more. Now it was a vow he silently gave to Ed- to love, to live, and to never stop being thankful, or grow complacent with those he cared about.

A yelp and a loud crash echoed up from downstairs, followed by a quick shout of, "It's fine, everything's fine!" Muffled cursing ensued and, chuckling to himself, Roy headed down the stairs, curious to see what awaited him.


End file.
